


The Great Light (#1)

by Harriers



Series: The Great Light (Warriors) [1]
Category: Warriors - Erin Hunter
Genre: Other, warrior cats but in a nuclear war
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:29:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 26
Words: 73,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25429951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Harriers/pseuds/Harriers
Summary: "A Great Light is coming, and will destroy us all"For as long as CreekClan have existed, they have been at war. Young apprentice Pinepaw knows this, despite the doubts that plague her thoughts. After a tragedy during her first battle, she is desperate to prove herself as a loyal CreekClan warrior, ready to fight for, and die for, her Clan; but another war is raging downriver in the city and the Clan's way of life is thrown in disarray as Pinepaw finds herself having to work with the enemy to save her family.TL;DR Pinefrost, Or How I Learned To Stop Worrying And Love The Bomb
Series: The Great Light (Warriors) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1841923
Comments: 13
Kudos: 15





	1. Allegiances

**Author's Note:**

> It's finally here ahaha. Big thanks to everyone on tumblr (trinitywc) who stuck with me while I got this sorted. This is my first story/novel since my Wattpad days (almost 3-4 years ago now, christ) so criticism is much appreciated. I don't really have much to say without rambling as usual, so please enjoy, and excuse any formatting errors. Asks are always open for any questions, and thank you again for reading. - harriers
> 
> (Insert generic content warning for violence and gore here.)

** CreekClan **

Cranestar - a lean white molly with long fur

Kiteheart - patchy brown tortoiseshell

Sedgenose - dusty, dark brown tabby

Goatfur - shaggy grey tabby (Baypaw)

Tallsun - black and white molly (Orchidpaw)

Shellspine- brown and black tabby molly

Teaselstalk - scrawny pale brown tom (Dandelionpaw)

Flaxstripe - pale golden tabby tom (Chickpaw)

Slightcloud - thin silver grey tabby

Campiontail - dark ginger molly (Pinepaw)

Chestnutfur - ginger and white tom

Ouzelheart - black molly

Pinepaw - white and black molly with a striped tail

Dandelionpaw - tortoiseshell and white molly

Baypaw - brown tabby

Orchidpaw - dappled grey molly

Mallowshine - pale brown tabby (Sandkit and Webkit)

Whitespeckle - pale tabby molly, expecting kits

Pricklepelt - dark grey molly

Oakbark - heavy set brown tom

Hollytangle - black molly with matted fur

**WoodClan**

Sunstar - bright yellow tom

Callafur - jet black tom

Blackwillow - smoky grey tom

Wheatwhisker - golden, pale tabby

Hopclaw - yellow and white tom 

(Swallowpaw)

Gravelpelt - mottled grey and brown tom

Henfeather - golden speckled molly

Seedspots - brown molly

Curledtail - dark tabby molly

Woolycloud - dark grey and white molly Redstem - tortoiseshell molly

Nettlesting - pale tom with darker paws and face

Houndpelt - brown and white tom (Cuckoopaw)

Swallowpaw - black molly

Cuckoopaw - ticked blue tabby


	2. Chapter 1

It was the moment after sunrise, when the light came through the gaps in the trees and turned the mist the colour of roses. Everything shone with warmth and light, and the forest stirred awake under the sun. Grass and leaves unfurlec towards the sky, the sun, the breeze that swept down from the cliffs and tugged at fur. Everything was quiet, still.

There was a chill in the air. The wind ruffled her pelt uncomfortably, wet and prickly against her skin. She trotted down a winding path, kicking at the stones and pebbles that dotted the sandy ground.

The treeline broke further down, and the stream beside the path widened, sharp rocky path flattening into the meadow far below. The sweet smell of grass filled the air as the wind changed direction and blew upstream. The breeze rasped at the trees, the stream gurgled against rocks far behind, and two pairs of pawsteps crunched through the bracken, scent hidden by the breeze.

“Which way now Pinepaw?” A small brown tom stepped out from the shadow of an oak and glanced nervously around the forest. His silky pelt was dappled with glowing shadows, eyes gleaming in the yellow haze.

“I’m thinking,” Pinepaw answered. She pricked her ears, bit her lip in thought. As she padded along the path, her paws snagged on roots and stones. She snarled in frustration. She’d never been this far into the forest, the landscape was unfamiliar and strange, but she wasn’t going to tell Baypaw that.

Stone and sand turned to soft dirt and mulch, mossy, soft ground that left pawprints as she continued walking, her chin high in the air. This was deep in the forest. She glanced around, forcing her fur to lie flat.

“I think it’s this way,”

“You think?”

Pinepaw clenched her jaw and exhaled sharply.

“It’s this way, come on,” she picked up her pace and broke into a brisk walk, striped tail plumed behind her. _It’s got to be this way._ She peered between the gaps in the sun-striped trees, searching for a solid black oak; one that forked in two and was singed by fire.

Thick branches blocked the sun, oaks and rowans clung to each other with thick, ancient arms, trapping the light. There were few gaps in the branches here, and even as the sun climbed above the mountain, the forest stayed swathed in shadow. It was hard to see, hard to differentiate the mossy ground and the leafy bushes, hard to find a pathway between the tangles of formidable undergrowth.

Pinepaw wrinkled her nose in thought. She just had to orientate herself. Which way was the stream again?

“Maybe we should go back,” Baypaw’s tail twitched nervously, “The Lightning Tree isn’t going to go anywhere, and I have a hunting assessment-“ he trailed off, shuffling his paws together.

“I can go alone if you want to go back,” Pinepaw offered.

“N-no! I want to see it too,”

Pinepaw narrowed her eyes as her denmate and sniffed, unconvinced.

“Come on,” Pinepaw shot forward, breaking into a trot, paws feeling the ground for a path- _surely_ , she thought, _others have been through here._

She scanned the forest floor, looking for any signs of movement. Any disturbed ferns or thickets, a sign that warriors used this track.

Behind them, the bracken was trampled and squashed, but in front it was thick and untouched. There was barely any sign that cats _live_ here, let alone patrol and hunt here.

Maybe her Clanmates were better at navigating the forest than her. Her fur prickled at the thought.

She skirted a clump of budding mallow, a fragrant bush of wisteria, a tangle of broken sticks- piled into a strange mound around the base of a yew. _The old border,_ her mind began to untangle the vague map in her head. Okay, she wasn't _lost_ lost, just, plain lost.

_There should be an oak around here_ , and then she spotted the rippled leaves and confidently picked up speed. Yes, this was the way. Hollytangle had mentioned it was just past the old border, close to the cliffs.

_We’re getting really close to the scent line._

She tried not to think about it, instead let her mind wander. The Lightning Tree, where the Clans used to meet under the truce of the full moon. Was it really taller than a thousand pines? Her paws picked up speed.

“We should have gone along the cliffs,” Baypaw panted as he struggled to catch up. She could see the fur rippling along his spine.

“You couldn’t handle climbing all the way along there,”

“I could!”

“And then jump into the trees?” Pinepaw glanced up to the sunlight dappled canopy. She shivered as the branches swayed above. Getting to the Lightning Tree from the cliffs would have been easier for her, but there was no way Baypaw could handle leaping across the forest canopy; he was too small.

“Have you even done tree manoeuvres yet?”

“Goatfur said we will next moon,” Baypaw grumbled a reply, “but I _can_ climb,”

“It’s different,” Pinepaw waved her tail loftily through the air. Baypaw’s ears flattened but he didn’t say anything. She shrugged and continued on. The trees were getting closer together, and the land was flattening out more. The ground was soft and loamy, squelching with leaf mould.

As the wind blew, the shadows danced. Shapes, feline and sleek, shifted in the edges of her vision. Her heart was beginning to pound.

_We’re very close._

Behind her, Baypaw stopped. His tail spiked in alarm.

“What?” Pinepaw hissed through clenched teeth. Her heart quickened when Baypaw did not reply, and she dropped lower, pressing her belly into the dirt. She prayed her night-black pelt didn’t stick out too much against the pale foliage. .

“Down there,” Baypaw whispered, mew strained with fear, as he twisted his head around to look at Pinepaw. She peered into the forest, searching the forest floor for signs of movement.

There was a flash of movement besides a rowan, flame red fur. Pinepaw’s fur rippled. No one in CreekClan had red fur like that. The red creature reappeared between two spindly birches, and she saw a triangle face, black paws, and a bushy tail, and watched it vanish as it sprinted into the dark shadows.

“It’s a fox!” She breathed a sigh of relief, and then, “it’s heading towards WoodClan land anyway,” she turned her head around to glance at her denmate as she stood up.

He was still edgy. The whites of his eyes glistened in the dark.

“What now?” She hissed.

A twig snapped. Pinepaw ducked again. Thinking fast, she writhed her way under a honeysuckle and held her breath. Had the fox come back? She pricked her ears.

_Pawsteps_. There were definitely pawsteps.

“Over there-“ Baypaw began.

“Quiet!” she slapped her tail over his mouth and hissed.

She could hear voices, faint beneath the birdsong.

“You didn’t have to be so hard on them,” a pale grey tabby mewed as she padded into view. _Whitespeckle_. Pinefrost breathed a sigh of relief. Close behind her, Slightcloud shambled into view. His ear was ripped, and blood splashed the side of his face.

“And just let them waltz across the border?” A black and brown molly responded hotly with her tail high in the air as she strode past her Clanmates to take the lead.

“It was an apprentice!”

“Some apprentice,” Slightcloud muttered.

“Apprentices know better then to _accidentally_ cross a scent line,” the black and brown molly waved her tail, bright orange eyes alert as she scanned the forest. Pinepaw pressed herself into the ground as she strode past, fox-lengths from where she hid.

“And you know better than to be walking around the forest,” Slightcloud turned his head to look at Whitespeckle.

“You try being cooped up in the nursery for two moons Slightcloud,” Whitespeckle replied, trotting past with ease, “A walk is good for the kits,”

“Not if you get caught by WoodClan,” he sniffed. Whitespeckle didn’t reply. Bracken crunched under their paws as the patrol slid past.

Pinepaw held her breath to listen. Had they gone?

She pricked her ears. Nothing. A blackbird chittered noisily above; the forest was clear again.

“That must be the dawn patrol,” Pinepaw glanced at her denmate.

“They met WoodClan warriors!” Baypaw breathed. His eyes were wide and his fur stood up on end.

Pinepaw flexed her claws and clambered from out under the honeysuckle. Short branches scraped her pelt and the blossom left sticky pollen marks along her shoulder; pale yellow against black.

"That was close,” Baypaw huffed. He had a shower of white blossom along his spine.

“It's not like they could have forced us to go back," she muttered, staring across the trees. She frowned. _Which way?_ She'd lost her place again. The dogwood and hawthorns led to the cliffs- at least, she was sure they did- but didn’t the four pines lining the path mean she had crossed the border? She took in a deep lungful of air. No, still on CreekClan land. Scenting the air, she caught the taste of something bitter. She looked around as the wind changed again, and caught sight of something.

Between the green canopy, when the wind stirred strong enough to move the oak’s, a black branch was visible.

_This way._

She put on a burst of speed, eyes focused on where she last saw the dark branches. The path she found her paws on was getting narrower, thickets and thorns walled either side of the dirt track, and she scraped miserably alongside a gnarled blackberry bush. It writhed menacingly across the trail.

She glanced at Baypaw,

“Try not to leave half your pelt,” she muttered, squeezing through a maze of dark holly branches and prickly leaves. Pinepaw stumbled forward ungracefully, snagging her nose on a thorn, and was spat out on the other side. Her muzzle brushed the ground and she staggered back to her paws. She glanced up. This was it.

The Lightning Tree stood alone at the end of a clearing of red earth. From it’s gnarled, weather-worn roots, it grew straight up into the sky, and split. Dark branches spiraled into the pale clouds, growing away from each other, tangled fingers reaching towards opposite sides of the forest. There was a jagged scar, black dirt that ran from the base of the tree across the centre of the clearing; peeling apart, ridged and torn.

“Wow,” Baypaw breathed as he squeezed past her on the path. They both stared at the tree, its huge forked branches, bare of any leaves or new growth, in awe.

“I wanna get closer,” she hissed, kneading the ground with her forepaws. She didn’t wait for his reply.

“Are you gonna climb it?” Baypaw whisper-shouted from behind her as Pinepaw raced forward. The ground changed again, from the lush forest floor to a dry, crumbly dirt that made Pinepaw wince as it pricked her pawpads. She waved her tail to coax him forward. 

She could feel the space open up, feel how still and silent the clearing was. Her fur lifted with apprehension as she approached the Lightning Tree. It towered over her, it’s thick shadow covering her completely. She slowed to a halt at the base of one of the roots; it was taller than her.

She felt very small.

“That’s where the leaders sat,” Baypaw’s eyes were wide as he looked at one of the biggest roots, a twisted knot of burnt bark with a flat top that looked out over the clearing. She nodded in agreement.

“Let’s have a look!” Pinepaw sprang up, digging her claws into the hard bark. It crackled and slipped, her heart dropped- there was no grip! Scrambling like mad, she heaved herself up and rolled onto the top. Dust and ash puffed up in a huge cloud that coated her and Baypaw.

She sneezed and rubbed her nose. She was covered in ash already. Her white paws and chest were filthy, darkened with soot and dirt.

“We’ll need a clean before we get back,” she mewed to Baypaw,

“I could do with a dip in the stream,” Baypaw grunted as he joined her at the top. His thick brown fur was spiked up in all directions like a hedgehog.

Pinepaw twitched an ear in agreement. She shuffled towards the edge, pawstep by pawstep, and looked up. She could see all around, all the glossy hollybushes and broom, the ferns and bramble thickets, and, above the treetops, the grey mounds of the mountains far away.

“Imagine what it would be like on a Gathering,” she whispered, trying to remember Hollytangle’s story. She envisioned countless warriors, pelts of white, grey, red, black, yellow, crowding around the tree, chattering and gossiping. It was strange to imagine the burnt, dead, clearing teaming with life, or imagine that the noble CreekClan warriors would sit so close to the flea-infested WoodClan.

_Imagine addressing the Clans as leader_ … she stood tall, tail outstretched behind her and gazed down onto the clearing. What would she say? Boast about CreekClan’s new warriors, or litters of kits while the mangy WoodClan leader would bare his teeth in jealousy and lash his tail. She imagined moonlight shining off sleek pelts and gleaming in blazing eyes as she addressed the Clans.

A scraping sound got Pinepaw’s attention and she snapped out of her daydream. Baypaw was stood on his hindlegs, testing the bark with an unsheathed paw. Not wanting to be left behind, she ran at the trunk, and pounced.

Her chin bounced off the solid bark, and she yelped in pain but held on.

“Go on!” Baypaw cheered. Pinepaw squeezed her claws in deeper and scrabbled for a hold with her hind claws. She pushed upwards, head flush against the tree as she climbed.

“Easy!” She crowed. Baypaw purred in laughter below.

She reached up with her forepaws and dug in, pulling her hindpaws up and scrabbling for a hold. Pinepaw glanced up, there was a branch not far from her. She pushed on, trying not to sneeze as ash floated across her muzzle. Her shoulders ached by the time she reached the branch. The view was even more incredible. The lightning scar in the earth was peeled apart, like a giant wound. Chunks of stone had been flung across the clearing like leaves when the lightning hit, all those moons ago.

“You can see even further!” she gasped. To her annoyance, Baypaw swarmed past her, charging up the tree like a squirrel, dodging the gap where the tree split in two and pushing himself up the taller trunk.

“I could probably get to the top!” Baypaw howled as he clambered past.

“Not without me!” Pinepaw dropped into a crouch and honed in on the next branch.

“Well hurry up then!”

“I am!” She leapt up, claws out. The branch creaked as it took her weight. Pinepaw waited for it to stop dipping and looked for the next branch.

“Goatfur would never let me climb this high!” Baypaw was panting as Pinepaw charged past him.

“Neither would Campiontail,”

“I can’t wait to tell Orchidpaw, she’ll be so jealous,”

“I bet Dandelionpaw wished she came with us,”

“Yeah, and-“ there was a crack.

Pinepaw froze. Was it a branch? She frantically glanced up. There was Baypaw, clinging to the tree. He looked terrified. _Tree trunks don’t crack, what was that?_

“Was that your branch?” He hissed.

Pinepaw shook her head,

“I don’t-“ another crack, like a twig snapping. She heart began to race. _Oh StarClan_ , “get down!” She pushed herself up against the trunk and peered down to the forest floor. Was it the fox? A bird? She scanned the forest. Nothing. In the cloudy gloom, everything was dark.

She was barely aware of Baypaw landing next to her, his ears flat against his head, his tail tucked under him.

“What?” Baypaw’s breath was quick. Pinepaw hissed at her denmate to be quiet. The bushes rattled. A fern shivered.

Then she saw them. Her heart threatened to leap out her mouth. Huge, bristling, angry.

“WoodClan!”


	3. Chapter 2

_Three of them!_

"Those filthy prey stealers!” Pinepaw felt Baypaw slapping his tail over her mouth as she snarled.

“Hush!” He whipped his tail away and stared back down at the WoodClan warriors, anxiety spiking his pelt. “We can’t let them know we’re here, we’re so close to the border,” _with no warriors,_ she added silently to herself _._ Pinepaw curled her striped tail around herself, as if it could protect her. She felt her legs tremble as the three warriors came into view.

One was a huge grey tom with black flecks along his flanks, his ears were shredded and scarred. A dark tabby with a tail that was kinked over followed behind, and the other warrior was grey and white with a scarred pelt. They crept silently, ears pricked, alert as they slipped through CreekClan territory with ease. Pinepaw stared at them, following their movements. Where there anymore warriors lurking in the forest? She shook her head, she couldn’t sit here and wait! She had to get back to camp!

Pinepaw scrambled to stand, dry ash billowing up around her,

“Run!” She turned to Baypaw and pushed him up with her paws, “we have to warn camp!” Leaping over her denmate, she charged to the end of the lightning tree’s branch and leapt. Spurred by her beating heart, she flung herself into the next tree. Running through the canopy would be easiest, and up in the trees, she would be safe from WoodClan.

The branch she landed on was thin and plunged down as it took her weight. She panicked, thinking it would crack; but to her relief the branch shot back up and she kept running.

She dodged the trunk, springing onto the other side with her claws out. Baypaw was struggling behind her.

“Come on!” She hissed. A twinge of guilt hit her- he had no idea how to run through trees- but that couldn't stop her. She had to warn camp; he'd have to learn, quickly. The trees were a blur, bark and twigs cracked as she pelted across the canopy. The cliffs rose up behind the trees, a solid mass of rock, there was no way either of them could climb that.

“We have to get down!” She howled, praying that Baypaw was close by. She twisted her head, briefly looking over her shoulder to see if she could spot him, and there he was, leaping out an elm. He was safe. When she reached a low growing sycamore she skidded to a halt, claws shredding the bark, and started looking for a way down. Her heart was pounding in her ears. Where were the WoodClan warriors? She couldn’t hear anything but her racing blood.

“Hurry!” Pinepaw scrambled down the tree headfirst. Twigs scraped her sides, and she twisted a paw awkwardly as she landed on the stony forest floor.

“Which way to camp?” Baypaw was looking round wildly. His breath was rapid. 

Pinepaw followed his frantic gaze- _which way?_ \- until she spotted a dark swath of bracken and bramble and instantly knew the way. Fear gave her speed as she charged through the bracken. She ducked under fallen branches, slumped against rocks, she leapt over tangles of thorns that threatened to snare her paws.

Finally, the stream came into view.

She sprang over the bubbling water and headed up, following it to its source. The ground grew rocky and steep, and she pressed on. Her chest began to hum with a dull ache, her dizzy vision swam before her. And there, hidden under a sagging yew tree, between a cluster of bent pines, was camp. She burst through the bracken wall, skidding to a halt with a loud gasp.

“Pinepaw!” There was a shout. Pinepaw slouched, her lungs straining for air. She opened her jaws to speak, but nothing came out. She felt weak, limp. All of her was drained of energy. Baypaw slammed into her side as he followed. She could feel the heat radiating from him as he gasped for breath.

“Where have you been? You’ve been missing since dawn! You can’t just bunk off duties because you feel like it!” Pinepaw dimly recognised the limping gait of her mentor, Campiontail, and raised her head to look at her furious expression; green eyes alight with anger.

“WoodClan-“ She gasped, and broke off coughing. Her chest felt like it was on fire.

“-crossed the border,” Baypaw finished. The brown tom had collapsed, sprawled on the ground. His flanks shivered as he heaved for breath.

“WoodClan?” Another warrior mewed, padding towards them.

“Again?” A dark tom hissed, “we’ve just set the border marks!”

“-in the forest,” Pinepaw swallowed and propped herself upright to look at the senior warriors as they gathered. Startled faces stared back, features swimming. She blinked, and slowly, camp fell into place, “three of them, we ran as fast as we could,”

Instantly, a sleek brown and cream molly got to her paws,

“Teaselstalk, Tallsun,” her mew was commanding, stern, “we’ll head down,” there was a rustle as the warriors vanished into the forest. Silence, and then Campiontail rounded on the apprentices.

“Where have you been?” Look at you! You’re filthy!”

Pinepaw blinked dumbly at her mentor then stretched her head around to glance at her pelt; covered in ash and crumbled burnt bark.

Her fur smelt singed. She had assumed the forest would clean it off. Now she was covered in the evidence of her adventure.

“What is this? Ash?” Campiontail sniffed at the apprentices and recoiled with flattened ears.

“The Lightning tree?” Her mew crackled with outrage, “is that where you were?”

Pinepaw nodded meekly. She was shattered from her run to save CreekClan, too tired to argue with her mentor.

“You know how dangerous the forest is!” She spat, “Great StarClan- you even saw WoodClan warriors! What if they got you? Hm?”

Pinepaw held her tongue. She knew that was a question she wasn’t supposed to answer.

“I have no time for this, WoodClan might be invading our borders,” she lashed her tail and turned her head to see Goatfur, Baypaw’s mentor.

“I’m ashamed with both of you ,” Goatfur mewed, anger glittering in his amber gaze, “especially you Baypaw,” Baypaw ducked his head as Goatfur continued, “Until you two learn that being an apprentice isn’t about having fun, both of you will take all cleaning duties,”

Pinepaw leapt up to protest. _All the cleaning duties?_

“What?” She squawked.

“This isn’t the first time you’ve decided to go on a little _adventure_ Pinepaw,” Campiontail growled, silencing her with a single look, “you will make sure the nursery is clean, the queens are comfortable and well fed, you will collect fresh moss for Sedgenose and look after the elders, talk to them,” she added, emphasising Goatfur’s punishment. She pinned Pinepaw with her steely gaze as she snapped, “and I hope some of their wisdom will rub off on you!”

Pinepaw bowed her head sheepishly, her fur hot as she felt the Clan staring at her.

“Yes Campiontail,”

“And don’t assume your hunting is a chance to bunk off! I will be checking on you,” she gave another lash of her tail and stalked off.

Goatfur gave both of them a stern look and she dipped her head even lower.

“You should know better Pinepaw, I expect this sort of behaviour from new ‘paws!” He growled.

Pinepaw rolled her eyes. How many times had she heard that? She caught Baypaw’s gaze and had to stifle a purr as she saw his whisker’s twitching.

“Go wash yourselves before you clean the nursery, and you must ask for permission to leave camp,”

Goatfur padded off and Pinepaw raised her head, stretching out her neck and smoothing down her chest fur with a few licks. She didn’t look up until she was sure camp had returned to normal.

“Guess we better get clean,” Baypaw mumbled after a long silence. Wordlessly, Pinepaw got to her paw and headed for the pool of water in the centre of camp, searching the crowd of cats for a familiar round face. She couldn't spot her sister, and sighed in relief. Bounding over the stream, Pinepaw climbed up to the pool. It was an easy two jumps for her, a mad scramble for an apprentice like Baypaw.

“Kiteheart’s gonna have my whiskers for bedding,” Baypaw grumbled as he leapt up the rock wall and onto the flat slate, sliding his paws towards the water’s edge.

“Shouldn’t have followed me into the forest then,” Pinepaw flicked a pawful of water at her denmate as she slid into the pool. Wincing as cold water washed over her paws, Pinepaw splashed her chestfur gently, revealing the white fur underneath. Ash began to float off her.

“I can’t let you go on alone,” Baypaw’s teeth chattered violently and they quickly got to cleaning their fur.

It wasn’t too deep where they stood, in fact, the pool wasn’t deep at all. The bottom was a single sheet of rock, rippled by waves, wind, paws, only getting deeper as it got closer to the water that trickled down a flat rock, the camp wall, and on the opposite side, where it noisily cascaded down stones to the stream. If Pinepaw wanted a nice, relaxing swim, she had to go all the way downstream to the marshes.

The waterfall on the fall side of the pool foamed and shone with tiny rainbows as the sun appeared behind the trees. Pinepaw could see a thick tail peeking out from her den in the stone wall. The Clan leader seemed to be deep in conversation with someone- Campiontail and Goatfur, Pinepaw realised with a flash of embarrassment. She shook her head and looked at Baypaw, who was dripping wet.

A shadow crossed over Pinepaw and she looked up, and gulped as a black and brown molly loomed over her.

“So you two went to the Lightning Tree huh?” She mewed lightly, tail tip twitching through the air.

“Y-yeah,” Baypaw answered from besides Pinepaw. Water dripped as his whiskers quivered.

“Oooh, I’m surprised you two knew the way,”

“Leave them alone Shellspine,” Flaxstripe, one of the younger warriors, warned as he trudged towards the apprentices. Shellspine tossed her head back and gave a purr,

“I was only curious, it’s awfully brave of them to go all the way over there!” She sat down neatly and began to comb her plumed tail with a paw, “did you see any WoodClan warriors?”

Pinepaw lifted her head,

“Yeah I did,”

“Were you scared?”

“No-“

“Of course not,” Shellspine kinked her tail high over her back, an insolent look of sly amusement spreading across her face “no CreekClan cat is scared of them!”

Pinepaw forced herself to look at Shellspine’s face and nod. She had a lean face, wind-swept, spiky fur, sharp, intense eyes. If Slightcloud’s eyes were dull and distant, always somewhere else, then Shellspine’s were constant and piercing; like so many of the warriors, sharp and-

Pinepaw’s mind scrambled for a word. _Hungry_ , she thought. _Mean_.

“Not scared at all,” she lifted her chin with pride, “we even climbed it,”

“All the way?” Shellspine tipped her head further. Pinepaw didn’t back down, staring into those hungry orange eyes.

“You bet,”

Baypaw ducked his head.

“Shellspine!” Flaxstripe snapped.

“Yes, yes,” she sighed and swiped her tail though the air, cool and collected. She landed on the grassy floor of camp with a self-satisfied grin, stalking away with Slightcloud trotting after her, leaving Pinepaw and Baypaw by the pool.

“She’s scary,” Baypaw muttered.

“She’s a _warrior_ ,” Pinepaw clambered from the pool and gave her pelt a shake. She licked her chest fur down until it wasn't sticking out like a duck's tail. "You take the elders, I'll clean out the nursery, It'll be quicker that way," and withotu giving him time to respond, she crossed the pool in a single, smooth bound.

////

"Make sure there’s no thorns!” Mallowshine curled her tail around her flank, “I don’t want my kits getting hurt because of some careless apprentices!”

Pinepaw grumbled a vague reply, grateful that her mouth was full of moss. The pale tabby watched the apprentice with contempt, she had tripped over Sandkit twice, and had nearly clawed Webkit after he bit her tail; she hadn’t gotten off to a great start with cleaning the nursery. _And she’ll only report me to Campiontail_! She had to bite back a hiss when Mallowshine gave her a withering look.

She trotted out the nursery, green strands of moss tickling her nose, and dumped the moss in the big pile they were collecting on the rocks. She could see Baypaw clawing up the old moss in the elders den while Oakbark and Hollytangle lazed in the sun. The elders were mewing softly. Pinefrost could sense their quiet sadness, and noticed the gap between them, as if they had saved a space for their old denmates.

“WoodClan have always been too big for their paws,” Hollytangle murmured. A former rogue, she had a strange accent, a mew that went up and down melodiously like bird song.

“They’ve been caught hunting before, and they’ll do it again unless we teach them a lesson,” Oakbark replied with a grunt. Pinepaw’s ears pricked. _So WoodClan have been hunting on our land!_

She scanned the hollow, and saw that Kiteheart’s patrol had returned. The deputy’s face was alight with satisfaction, her whiskers and paws stained with blood; Pinepaw felt a jolt of surprise, had they caught the WoodClan warriors?

“I hope it doesn’t take long!” Mallowshine called, sticking her head out of the nursery as Pinepaw began to wash her face. She opened her jaws to reply, but was cut off by a sneeze.

She pawed at the rocks, scraping her claws along the shiny brown granite. It was sun high- she huffed, how long was it taking Baypaw to take out the old bedding? Just as she was growing impatient, Baypaw appeared.

“Sorry!” He trotted over to her, “Pricklepelt was telling me a great story,”

“Ugh, Mallowshine only attempted to claw my ears off, you should be quicker,”

“You know how Mallowshine is,” Baypaw mewed as they headed for the thicket that led out of camp, “she’s only protective of Sandkit and Webkit 'cause Badgerscratch isn’t here to raise them,”

Pinepaw gave a grunt. She did feel bad for the pale molly, raising kits without her mate; but she did have the Clan to help, there was no need to be so thorny. _Like a nest is that important!_

“We’re collecting moss for the dens,” she looked at Teaselstalk who was sat on guard duty. The pale brown tom gave a twitch of his ears in acknowledgement and the apprentices slipped out.

Warm sunlight filtered through the sparse trees and Pinepaw stretched out on a flat rock. From the camp, high up on the valley sides, she could see over the forest. She could see down to the thick clusters of trees beneath the rocky pine forest, the river that snaked around from a waterfall far along the valley, and all the way down to the meadow. Far off, lay Twolegplace. Baypaw led the way down the trail, charging down the rocky slopes towards the trees. Pinepaw lingered behind, gazing at a pack of starlings that flittered through the larches.

“Look here!” Baypaw shouted, and Pinepaw gave up her staring, sprinting over to where he’d found a large, sturdy sycamore that was teeming with moss

While he began tearing moss from the bark, Pinepaw sniffed at the roots, searching for prey.

“Can you help?” Baypaw asked with a flick of his tail. His paws were dirty and specks of moss dangled from his whiskers. Pinepaw rolled her eyes and padded to the tree. She stared at the mass of moss Baypaw had gathered. _We won’t need that much!_ Still, she began to claw at the tree with deft flicks of her paw. They managed a large pile before Pinepaw got bored and began sniffing for mice again. She nudged her denmate along the trail, and back to camp.

On the way back, Pinepaw finally spotted her littermate, sitting on a rock and staring at the sky.

“What are you doing?” She mewed, putting down her moss. Dandelionpaw jerked her head around.

“Oh!” She straightened her frazzled whiskers with a paw and licked at her chest fur, “I was watching the sky- look,” she pointed at the sky with her muzzle, gesturing at two fluffy clouds that hung above the valley.

“What? There’s some clouds,” Baypaw looked at her with a confused twitch of his whiskers.

“No- look, there’s some strange birds,”

Pinepaw climbed onto the rock and stood next to Dandelionpaw, narrowing her eyes as she stared at the sky. The sun stabbed at her eyes and she blinked away the blinding light.

Suddenly, a bird swept between the clouds, briefly appearing in a naked patch of blue sky before vanishing behind a cloud.

“It’s a bird,” Pinepaw mewed, but unease curled in her stomach. Why didn’t it flap it’s wings? And why was it so big? Was it one of those huge wandering birds that Hollytangle mentioned in her stories? She kept staring, hoping it would reappear, but it didn’t and she grew annoyed.

“It’s probably some kind of eagle,” she guessed.

“It’s silver, like Slightcloud’s pelt,” Dandelionpaw mewed, “what kind of bird is silver?”

“A silverbird,” Pinepaw answered, “hey, come and help us carry this moss back?” She didn’t want her littermate being weird and staring at the silverbirds all day, and her neck was aching from having to tuck moss under her chin.

“Oh, Campiontail made you clean dens?” She leapt down from the rock with a purr and nosed one of the moss piles into a tight ball, “thank StarClan, the rest of us can go training instead of doing chores! I told you going to the Lightning Tree was a bad idea,"

“Yeah have fun playing catch up,” Pinepaw flicked her tail. Her mossball was smaller now Dandelionpaw was helping, and they got back to camp quickly, without any more strange interruptions.

Dandelionpaw headed off to the apprentices den, a small cavern made by the roots of the yew tree, and Pinepaw went to finish her chores. As Pinepaw approached the nursery, she was glad to see it was empty. Whitespeckle was dozing outside on the rocks and Mallowshine had taken her kits to play in the camp. Pinepaw had the hard stone coated in a thick layer of moss in no time at all, and she was completely certain there were no thorns at all. _That will show Mallowshine!_ She sat down on the moss with a satisfied purr and began to groom her pelt.

A set of pawsteps and a friendly mew made Pinepaw turn around,

“Do you want some feathers?” A small, compact molly dipped her head as she stepped into the nursery. She had glossy grey fur and white paws stained with grass.

“Oh thanks Orchidpaw,” Pinepaw flashed her denmate a grateful look and picked up the feathers that lay at her paws- sparrow, freshly plucked as well, she could still smell the blood. Jealousy curled in her stomach at the thought of the other apprentices hunting.

“No worries,” Orchidpaw dipped her head and turned for the exit, “I better go, I don’t want to be caught helping you,” she waved her tail and was gone, and Pinepaw was left in the nursery. She gave her paws a few licks, before deciding to go check on Baypaw. She slipped from the rocks and into the camp. Warm sunlight filled the camp. Several warriors were sharing tongues and murmuring about the day. With a heavy sigh she stretched out her neck and clawed at the slate, then arched her back, shook her pelt out and found a knot in her fur. It had to be dealt with.

Orchidpaw was hurrying across camp, Hollytangle following behind her. The elder was leaving on one of her walks, and Pinepaw snorted, she was glad she didn’t have to escort the elder across the forest. She was far too tired for that. She sat down to yawn and scratch at her ears when Goatfur walked up.

“I hope your not slacking off,” Goatfur growled as he approached the rock pool. Pinepaw flashed him a scowl.

“I’ve just sat down,” she gave her ears another sharp scratching. Her throat tickled, moss always made her itchy.

“The quicker you finish, the sooner you can sit down,”

Pinepaw flattened her ears but said nothing, a growl building in her throat. 

“Well?” Goatfur’s tail swished the ground, and his amber eyes glittered with an anger that left Pinepaw no choice but to agree with, “get on with it!”


	4. Chapter 3

Pinepaw stretched and yawned as she entered camp. A dull pain made her neck ache and she was heavy with exhaustion, ready to sleep for a moon. The squirrel she carried was plump and heavy, fattened by greenleaf’s rich offerings, and she sighed in relief when she dropped it on the fresh kill pile. Pride warmed her heart as she saw Campiontail give her a small nod; that squirrel had taken her ages to catch. First she had lost it, and then she had to chase it through the cliffs to catch it.

_At least I managed something._

“Whitespeckle’s got her eye on your squirrel,” Dandelionpaw mewed as she groomed her fur. Her pelt was coated in a thick layer of dust and sand, her tail matted with leaves; Pinepaw smelt the fresh scents of the training hollow and jealousy bubbled up inside her.

“She should,” she gave a hiss as she slumped down to sit besides her near the rocks, “it took me forever to catch the stupid creature,” Huffing, Pinepaw collapsed onto her belly and stretched out her hind legs. There was a dull ache beginning in her hips, and her paw pads were scraped raw. Hunting on the cliffs was tough, it was prey poor and full of danger; snakes and hawks and hidden drops- Campiontail had refused to let them hunt in the forest. At least she had let Pinepaw go hunting. After several sunrises of cleaning dens and helping Ouzelheart fix the bramble barrier around camp, she was going stir crazy.

“Chickpaw and Orchidpaw did an assessment today,” Dandelionpaw paused to scratch behind her ear, “Chestnutspike had no idea how good they were, he got scratched up so bad,”

“Yeah?” Pinepaw sniffed, uninterested. She curled her tail up against her. She should have been doing her assessments, not hunting for the entire Clan. She put her paws on her chin and sighed with exhaustion. Hunting drained her. Waiting for her assessments drained her. She felt fidgety.

A breeze blew through camp, rustling the yew tree’s branches and sending ripples across the pool. The Clan was quiet, basking in the dusk. Fading sunlight turned the sky a brilliant violet-blue, and pale orange clouds dotted the sky. Birds chirped, faint songs in the distance.

There was another sound too. Pinepaw sat up and pricked her ears, trying to pick it out. Pawsteps thrummed the ground, frantic and hard. 

Flaxstripe burst through the bramble tunnel, his fur spiked,

“Cranestar!” He yowled as he sprinted into camp, crashing through the stream and leaping up the rocks by the pool “WoodClan have killed a rabbit on our land!” He paced the rocks nervously, water dripping down his legs. His tail lashed. Fear scent laced the air.

Shellspine swivelled her head around, eyes blazing. Her fur rippled with outrage.

“That’s the second time this half-moon, you have to do something!” She snapped, glaring at the deputy as she sat at the entrance to Cranestar’s den. Kiteheart’s eyes narrowed. Her tail-tip twitched once and then lay very still.

Close behind, Campiontail skidded into camp with Slightcloud on her heels. The two warriors looked uneasy, their eyes wide, flanks heaving as they fought for breath.

“There was blood everywhere,” Campiontail gasped as she struggled for air, “they’re clearly sending a message,” her tail was bushed out behind her.

“Prey stealers!” Teaselstalk shouted. He was crouched under the yew tree, his body tense, eyes flashing with malice, “we should teach them a lesson!” A few of the warriors yowled agreement.

Then, the yowling died down and the forest fell silent as Cranestar padded from her den. An old, skinny molly with silky white fur and long, feathery black tail, appeared like mist, ghostly and pale. Her eyes were grey and stern, chips of flint set in a worn, narrow face.

“I thought Sunstar would have learnt his lesson about messing with our borders,” she rasped finally. Her claws glinted and scraped against the rock as she climbed down to stand in the centre of camp. Kiteheart was close besides her, her dappled brown and cream pelt blending into the rock wall.

“Flaxstripe, you will come to my den and report everything you saw, everyone else, be extra alert when you patrol the border,” Cranestar mewed, weary and tired.

“So your not going to challenge WoodClan over this?” Shellspine hissed. The spiked fur along her back rose in anger.

“I’ll organise an extra border patrol,” Kiteheart announced, her ears pricked, body tense with anger, “step up training,” her gaze swept around the Clan until it landed on her kits, Baypaw, Chickpaw and Orchidpaw, “If anyone catches WoodClan across the border, claw ‘em,”

Cranestar’s ear twitched,

“Do not provoke WoodClan, not yet,” she mewed carefully, glancing at her deputy. “Clan dismissed,” the old molly began to pad away, hauling herself back up the rocks and skirting the pool to head back to her den. As she crossed camp, she leant close to her deputy and Pinepaw pricked her ears, “that is my decision to make Kiteheart, the Clan is dismissed for now.” 

With a single sweep of her tail, the Clan was silenced and the birds began to chatter again.

The deputy said nothing, only flicked her tail and glowered.

“I have fought WoodClan since before you were born,” Cranestar rasped as she clambered into her den in the crack in the rock, “I know how to handle them,”

Kiteheart’s nostrils flared, and Pinepaw turned to look away before she could catch her staring. Something about the glance between them made her skin crawl.

“Do you think there’ll be a battle?” Orchidpaw whispered besides Pinepaw. She glanced down at the apprentice, who shivered in fear.

Pinepaw felt Dandelionpaw tense besides her. Her green eyes flashed with worry.

“Maybe,” Pinepaw answered back. _Why are they so scared?_ Fighting WoodClan for control of the prey-rich forest was part of every CreekClan cats life. Every kit, apprentice, and warrior, knew that. “We train for it though, so we’ll be ready,” she added.

_A battle with WoodClan…_ she shivered as thoughts crept into her mind. She remembered the stories that Oakbark had told her- brave warriors facing off beneath the shining moon, battling for territory, for the Clan, for honour. The old brown tom had shown her the scars and marks along his pelt, describing each one with a voice that ached with pride and memory.

Pinepaw glanced at her own pelt, thick fur unmarked- and unwashed. She looked like a hurried apprentice, not a gallant warrior. She began to quickly lick her fur down into place as the Clan began to stir and chatter again. The thoughts of battle kept making her dizzy. Restlessness made her legs twitch.

“Hopefully prey will start running for them again soon,” Pinepaw heard Flaxstripe murmur, “then they can stop bothering us,” the pale tom was chewing thoughtfully on Pinepaw’s squirrel, sprawled on a rock. Nearby, the queens, Whitespeckle and Mallowshine, had a vole between them.

_He should have shared that_ , Pinepaw thought with a growl as she glanced at the fresh kill pile, _there’s barely enough for us all again._ She glanced around the Clan, and the energy in the air made her heart race. She had to get out.

_Maybe I should go catch something for them._

“We can’t let them think they can walk into our forest without punishment, we should attack the next patrol that dares cross our land!” Shellspine’s tail lashed the air as she spoke. Her ears were pinned back, her eyes flashing with fury. Several of the warriors were gathered around her, fur bristling, tails twitching.

Besides her, Slightcloud gave a nod,

“They’ll keep crossing if we keep showing weakness like this,”

A dark red tom twisted his head to glance over his shoulder at the thin tabby,

“Weakness? It isn’t weakness to not rush into battle, we need to be prepared,”

“We are prepared Chestnutspike, do you doubt our skills as warriors?” Shellspine bit back.

Pinepaw glanced up from grooming to look at the warriors.

“There is no harm in waiting to see what WoodClan will do, they might be pushing us to attack, leading us into a trap,”

“You assume WoodClan have the intelligence to think like that,” Shellspine curled her tail high over her back, “they’re dogs, they only think with their claws,”

She flashed a paw through air, claws glinting, and then settled them both in front of her, waiting for a reply.

“We’re still recovering from leafbare,” he argued, “look around you Shellspine, hardly enough muscle to take on a mouse,”

“How dare you-“

“Listen, both of you, sit down,” a deeper voice cut through their bickering and Goatfur pushed himself between them. Shellspine sat down with a thunk, baring her teeth before suddenly licking a paw, calm again.

“Cranestar will decide what to do about the trepassers,” he mewed, and then shouldered his way into the warriors den, vanishing into the shadows between the rocks.

_I wonder if they were the same cats I saw._ Pinepaw thought as she watched Shellspine sulking off and Chestnutspike beginning to hastily lick his chest fur.

_What makes a dead rabbit a message?_ She wondered. She tried to imagine it. Did they leave a trail of rabbits from the birches to the border?

Only one thought sprung to mind- _wasting prey like that is against the warrior code_. _WoodClan are all heathens if they did that._

“Have you drifted off?” Campiontail placed her paw over Pinepaw’s tail and the apprentice jolted in surprise.

“Uh- sorry Campiontail,”

“All this WoodClan talk must be making you excitable huh?” Her nose twitched.

“Yes Campiontail,”

“Yes Campiontail? Sorry Campiontail? You’ve gotten all serious all of a sudden,” her mentor joked and nudged her shoulder with a paw.

“Thought I was still being punished, I’m on my best behaviour today,” Pinepaw blinked innocently.

“I’ll be the judge of that, now go and clean out the nursery and check on the elders,”

“Oh, I was gonna go hunting for the queens again,”

Campiontail squinted.

“I thought I was in charge here? I sent you hunting earlier anyway,”

“Yeah, but Flaxstripe ate that squirrel,”

Campiontail studied her carefully. Pinepaw bit back a growl; she was never this indecisive.

_Just let me go!_

“No,” she mewed, after way too long a pause.

“What?”

“I’m your mentor, I decide what you do,”

Pinepaw huffed. To the side of them, Teaselstalk was watching with narrowed eyes as he lumbered past. It all clicked together.

“Yes Campiontail,” she ducked her head, privately grimacing.

_Make Campiontail look good and she’ll make you a warrior quicker._

“Tomorrow, dawn patrol, and then you and the other apprentices are training,”

Pinepaw mumbled a reply. Cleaning! Again! She wanted to wail.

“Where’s my ‘yes Campiontail’?”

“Yes Campiontail,”

“Off you go,” Campiontail waved her tail in a finality.

She didn’t want to get snapped at by Mallowshine again, or be lectured by Pricklepelt, she needed back up.

_Apprentice’s help one another_ , she thought, and looked towards the apprentices den beneath the yew. 

Orchidpaw was sunning herself in a patch of light, feigning sleep, Pinepaw could see the nervous twitch in her tail.

“Hey Orchidpaw,” Pinepaw mewed as she approached the apprentice’s den. _How to word this so she agrees…_ Pinepaw chewed on the inside of her cheek. _Aha!_

“You look like you need something to do,” she began, “can you help me tidy the nursery? I’m gonna go grab some moss and bracken, you can get all the old bedding out,”

“I dunno,” Orchidpaw opened her green eyes and studied Pinepaw carefully.

“You’d be doing me a massive favour, I’ll pay you back,” she pressed.

Orchidpaw paused. Her tail curled. Pinepaw could see her thinking.

“Can you show me that move you used on Slightcloud the other day?”

Pinepaw blinked. What move? She struggled to remember her last training session.

“Oh course, easy, done,” she nodded hastily and turned towards the camp exit, “just leave all the moss outside the tunnel, I’ll clean it up later,”

“Sure Pinepaw,” she got to her paws and headed for the pool, then glanced over at her denmate, purred faintly, “thanks,”

“No problem, always happy to train with you,”

With a nod at her denmate, she vanished though the tunnel and into the forest.

////

It was getting dark by the time Pinepaw was lugging the last balls of moss back up the cliff.

The plan had worked. She didn’t have to listen to Mallowshine’s complaints again, and Campiontail was impressed with how studiously she lugged bedding up and down the cliffs. Halfway up the path, Pinepaw was getting tired. She kept pace, climbing the winding path back to camp. The stream gurgled noisily alongside her, bubbling and churning along the smooth rock and pebbles. It was otherwise silent. Pinepaw kept going, focused on the faint outline of the larch and yew trees that made camp.

An owl hooted, and the trees rattled. Pinepaw couldn’t help but jump.

_Stupid owl_. She grit her teeth. The darkness of the forest shifted and gave way to the flat, stony cliff tops. Camp. Home. Pinepaw’s fur prickled. She put on a final burst of speed to get back.

Once in camp, she made straight for the elder’s den, bounding up the rocks and skirting around the pool to the den. Spreading the moss on the ground, she let the elders paw at it and take bits for their nests.

“If you need anymore, I’ll get it tomorrow,” she forced down a yawn and dipped her head respectfully to the elders. Oakbark grunted an acknowledgement.

“Sweet dreams,” Hollytangle mewed, touching her greying muzzle to Pinepaw’s shoulder as she slipped out the den. Pinepaw twitched her tail in reply.

Perched on the edge of the pool, Pinepaw bent her head to drink. She could see the stars reflected in the rippling water, white dots, flickering in the soft waves; and two moving flecks, green and red.

She stopped and looked up. Faint pricks of colour, blinking in and out as they travelled across the black sky. When she blinked, they were gone.

_Weird_.

She glanced across camp. It was quiet, only the breeze rustled the leaves; and something softer, talking. It was coming from Cranestar’s den.

“CreekClan needs more warriors,” Kiteheart’s mew was low, hissed between clenched teeth. “WoodClan are twice as large as us,”

Cranestar’s quiet reply came after a long moment of agonising silence. 

“None of our apprentices are ready-“

“Then let me increase training, you have two of them on punishment, take them off,”

“Pinepaw and Dandelionpaw haven’t done assessments, they aren’t ready to be made warriors,”

“We have no time for assessments,” Kiteheart replied. There was silence and Pinepaw’s heart squeezed.

_I’m not ready?_

“Well what do you suggest?” Pinepaw could hear claws scraping against rock.

“Take the warriors on your training session tonight, see if that makes you less _contentious_ ,”

“I’m not _contentious_ , I’m saying we need to be more proactive in dealing with WoodClan,”

“I know Kiteheart,” 

There was a pause, and then pawsteps, and Kiteheart appeared at the mouth of the den, balanced on the rock lip with poise. She bent her head to lick down her ruffled chest fur before lightly stepping through the pool to the other side; barely making a splash.

“Goatfur!” She called, her voice even and level.

Pinepaw followed her gaze to where Goatfur was waiting by the rocks. “Are you all ready?” There was a grunt, and the warriors silently assembled by the stream. Pinepaw crossed camp, leapt the tumbling waterfall, and headed for the den without a word.

It was warm inside the root cave, heady and sweet-scented from the mushrooms that grew under the yew. Pinepaw peered through the darkness to spot her nest next to Dandelionpaw.

“What’s that about?” Dandelionpaw mewed.

“Dunno,” Pinepaw answered. She flattened her nest down with a paw.

“It’s some new training thing Kiteheart’s doing,” Chickpaw mewed from the back of the den.

“Huh?”

“Night training,” she repeated.

“Why?” Dandelionpaw’s voice quavered and she cleared her throat, “won’t they be tired after?”

“Warriors don’t get tired,” Pinepaw nudged her with her shoulder, purring jokingly despite the hollow feeling growing inside her stomach. Extra battle training- extra _special_ battle training. That could only mean one thing.

“She says it’ll keep us sharp,” Chickpaw rolled onto her back and stretched out again, testing each leg before settling back into her nest.

“That’s what we’re doing tomorrow, didn’t Campiontail tell you?”

“I just thought it was regular battle training,” Pinepaw circled in her nest and flopped down. Sleep pulled at her bones.

“No it’s like- extra special battle training,” Chickpaw explained.

“Huh,” she tucked her chin on her paws and folded her tail over her flanks. She could feel Dandelionpaw’s tail tip flick her hind leg, feel her warm breathing as she wriggled closer.

“Maybe I’ll finally beat you, I’ve been training real hard,” she yawned.

“I’ll have to be half dead for you to beat me,” Pinepaw nosed her ear affectionately.

Dandelionfall only grunted a reply. Pinepaw rested her head down, closed her eyes.

Even as she slipped into sleep, and the camp grew quiet, Pinepaw couldn’t shake the feeling that something was lurking behind her.

////

Moonlight filtered through the trees. Pinepaw was awake, lying with her head on her paws in the apprentices den. Orchidpaw was dozing besides her, while Baypaw and Chickpaw were curled up together, and Dandelionpaw had her back pressed against Pinepaw’s as she slept. Soft murmurs came from outside, and Pinepaw pricked her ears. The warriors had been talking for ages, and she only caught hints of the conversation as the wind noisily rustled the trees.

She had been awake all night. This was the night of their battle training, how could the others sleep? Pinepaw was itching to get out.

“Are we ready?” Kiteheart’s hard voice sounded close by, and Pinepaw jumped as Campiontail stuck her head into the den.

“Come on!” She hissed. Pinepaw jabbed Dandelionpaw in the side.

“ _Oof_ , get off me,” she mumbled. Pinepaw was already to her paws, ready as the day she was born, shaking moss from her pelt.

“Come on you,”

She stepped carefully over the apprentices and joined her mentor outside. Kiteheart was joined by Flaxstripe, Chestnutspike, and to her delight, Tallsun.

“Sure you wouldn’t rather be asleep?” Flaxstripe asked as Pinepaw padded up to the patrol. His sharp pale eyes were friendly, the bite in his voice wasn’t unkind.

“She’s come to challenge you to a fight,” Campiontail slapped her denmate with her tail.

“Come on, no fighting in camp,” Tallsun mewed seriously. She blinked softly at Pinepaw as she stared at her.

Dandelionpaw was shambling out of the den with the others, and Kiteheart rounded them up with a grunt at her kits.

“Don’t look so miserable,” she mewed, tapping Baypaw on the chin with her tail, “and stop dawdling,”

She led them out of camp without another word. Baypaw lingered, glanced at Pinepaw, and then followed.

A dusky haze blanketed the forest, and, following a path Pinepaw knew well, the small patrol broke away from the slope into the dusky trees beneath camp. Dandelionpaw was pressed close, trotting alongside her evenly, their pawsteps matching as they headed through the forest.

In the pale moonlight, the forest was beautiful. The mossy floor was a pattern of silver and shadow, and early dew glinted off leaves. White petals speckled the moss, and slender flowers had opened up to sip the cool night air. Pinepaw could hear an owl somewhere in the depths of the forest; it’s low call echoing through the trees.

In the thickest parts of the forest, the branches clustered together so tightly that no moonlight reached the leaf rot, and the darkness seemed to move with the wind. Pinepaw breathed in, and she could taste the wild scent of the mountains far beyond Clan land, tempting her. She felt a spark of energy, that familiar love for the forest, the valley, the world, running through her veins.

“It’s nice out tonight,” Pinepaw looked up to see Tallsun slowing down to join her kits.

“It’s different,” Pinepaw answered. She felt all her senses, alive and ready, stretching out into the dark forest. She’d never left camp this late, and the urge to explore tugged her heart. How would the river look under the moon? How far could she see across the valley, perched atop Outlook Rock in the darkness? What creatures and secrets lurked under midnight’s cover?

_Another day_ , she promised. She could take Baypaw and Dandelionpaw out and go climb some trees, watch the moon rise and fall behind the valley.

“It’s tiring,” Dandelionpaw mewed. Tallsun nodded. She opened her mouth and then closed it, glanced at the trees and gave a _hmm_.

There was a long pause until she spoke again.

“Do you know when your assessments are?” She asked, cautious.

“Soon,” Pinepaw answered back.

“I’ve got _an_ assessment tomorrow,” Dandelionpaw answered, breezily scratching at her ear with a hind leg.

Pinepaw had to wait for her to start walking again.

“That’s good,” Tallsun nodded. Another pause. Pinepaw’s fur crept. Tallsun never quite knew what to say around her kits. Pinepaw could sense her awkwardness.

“And-“ she paused, “and is it going okay?” There was something in her voice, like she didn’t know how to ask.

_Cranestar doubts us._

Pinepaw swallowed.

“It’s going fine,” she answered.

“Good,” her green eyes were warm, even if she couldn’t show it.

“Yeah, going fine,” Dandelionpaw answered, more genuine than Pinepaw.

“Well, soon you’ll be warriors then, and you can start contributing to the Clan,” Tallsun gave a final nod, looked at both of them, nodded again, and then left to catch up to the front of the patrol. Pinepaw sighed in relief.

Soon, the forest thinned out and Pinepaw recognised the deep earthy scents of the meadow. The tall, gangly trees gave way to stout bushes, junipers and flowering clumps of yarrow, growing in unruly patches among the grass. In early greenleaf, the whole meadow would flood, and although now the water had receded, Pinepaw could feel the dampness beneath her paws. The river was sliding past in the distance, white under the moon. The grass on the other side was swathed in thick shadow. _WoodClan territory_ , Pinepaw furrowed her brow.

Veering away, the patrol approached a dense copse of trees, and the sandy hollow behind, and Pinepaw sighed in relief at the sight; sand shining silver under the moonlight. _StarClan_ \- this was her element. The clustered cypress and willows whispered in the breeze, and Pinepaw pushed herself through the protective barrier into the clearing.

She purred as the soft sand crunched underpaw, and energy flooded her pelt as the patrol assembled around the hollow, ready.

Kiteheart was sat in the centre of the hollow, her thick brown pelt glistening under the moonlight.

“Keep your claws sheathed,” she flicked an ear, “I don’t want any of you getting too _eager_ ,”

Pinepaw settled on the ground next to Dandelionpaw, close to the edge, and waited. Tallsun sat behind her, tail folded over her paws.

Teaselstalk joined her, and Pinepaw was suddenly relieved.

_He’s easier to talk to._ She shook the thought away, she should be glad Tallsun was helping with her apprenticeship.

Kiteheart raised her tail,

“We’ll start with just getting used to fighting in the dark, it can be a little off putting,” she explained, pacing around the clearing in a wide circle, “It can be hard to see, so don’t forget you have other senses,”

Pinepaw glanced to the side; Chestnutspike was prowling around the outside, low to the ground. His dark red pelt melded with the shadows.

Had anyone noticed him? Chickpaw and Orchidpaw were listening to Kiteheart’s explanation with rapt attention. Baypaw was scuffing his paws against the ground.

Tallsun leaned over

“You want to pay attention,” she mewed evenly. “Fighting is one of the key parts of being a warrior,”

Pinepaw glanced up at her mother, finishing the sentence in her head; _it is every CreekClan’s warriors duty to fight for the Clan._

“-it is every CreekClan’s warriors duty to fight for the Clan,”

Pinepaw stifled her purr. She’d heard that advice from the day she was born; _we give everything for the Clan Pinekit_. Everything Tallsun did was for the Clan, even having kits.

“You’ll want to watch Kiteheart, she’s light on her paws see,” Tallsun gestured at her paws and lifted them onto her toes, demonstrating with ease. Pinepaw copied, bouncing her forelegs as she balanced on her tiptoes. She felt uneven.

_I’ll have to get the hang of it!_ She grit her teeth and settled back into her haunches.

Chestnutspike was still now, hidden completely in the shadows, while Kiteheart was still talking. The deputy raised her tail and then thunked it down as she explained some move- something Pinepaw missed entirely.

“Do you understand?” Kiteheart mewed.

Suddenly from the shadows, Chesnutspike lunged. His moonlit eyes flashed green as he pounced, striking the deputy from behind. Quick as a flash, Kiteheart ducked and rolled, and he soared over her, missing by a fox-length. He landed, swivelled on a thorn-prick point, and swiped at the deputy with a hefty paw. Kiteheart was crouched on the sand, and her tail swept the ground as she balanced, then rocketed upwards to slam her forepaws into Chestnutspike’s chest and unbalance him. He toppled to the ground with a thud, sand showering around him.

“Never let your guard down in the dark,” Kiteheart mewed evenly.

“That was fast,” Dandelionpaw breathed, her eyes wide.

“Light on her paws,” Tallsun repeated, eyeing her.

“Light on my paws,” Pinepaw mewed to herself, “got it. Be fast,” her claws itched.

“It’ll take a lot of practice to get as fast as Kiteheart,” Teaselstalk gave a snort, “She runs down to the river and back to camp every morning, I think she’s part horse,”

Pinepaw tipped her head,

“What’s a horse?”

“Some big Twoleg creature,” he replied, “they live in the Twolegplace across the field,” he gestured with a paw towards the oak copse, behind it and up the dusty Twolegpath lay Twolegplace, “they’re incredibly fast, you could never outrun one,”

Pinepaw felt curiosity grow inside her, when had they seen one? When had they been allowed to go all the way to Twolegplace?

“You’ve seen one?”

“Oh yeah,” Teaselstalk’s eyes darkened, “last leafbare,”

Pinepaw swallowed. That was the leafbare she was born in. She shivered, her curiosity crushed.

Chestnutspike gave her a pitying look as he approached.

“Be glad you don’t remember it,” she mewed. Pinepaw felt her mother stiffen. _I do remember it_ , she felt the fur along her shoulders rise, _I was lucky to survive._ She shivered again, as if the cold in her memory had descended into the training hollow.

Her heart was racing, and she suddenly realised Kiteheart was speaking again.

“-with something simple, like trying to judge distance in the dark,”

“Come on,” Campiontail was nudging her to her paws and Pinepaw followed, willing the feeling to come back to her numb feet. What was it Kiteheart had said? Trying to judge distance in the dark?

“But that’s easy,” she muttered, and then realised Kiteheart was glaring at her.

“Well you can go train with Chestnutspike if you think it’s so easy” Kiteheart mewed. Pinepaw flushed, but didn’t back down. She glanced at Chestnutspike; he was a lot bigger than when she had last trained with him. 

_More like WoodClan_ , she remembered, and shivered.

Chestnutspike was leading her to a dip in the ground, away from the other apprentices. They were already practicing their stances; Chickpaw was crouched, her tail sticking out like a bare branch, in front of Teaselstalk. Pinepaw reached a paw forward and pushed at her haunches,

“Get your tail down, you look like a duck,” she joked as she passed.

“Get off!” Chickpaw hissed mockingly. Pinepaw gave her a wink and trotted after Chestnutspike. The sand was gritty underpaw, littered with twigs and leaf scrap.

She paused. Where had he gone?

A weight slammed her. She was bowled over easily, pressed into the sand, and gasped for breath. The sand was cold against her cheek, and Pinepaw struggled against Chestnutspike, both his forepaws pinning her to the sand. She was twisted awkwardly, the side of her face flat against the ground while her exposed belly was at the mercy of Chestnutspike’s claws.

“Always pay attention,” he growled.

“I was,” Pinepaw braced her spine, dug her hind paws into his haunches and pushed. No luck, he was heavy. She pushed again, this time testing how far she could lift him off her. She had to wait.

Chestnutspike blinked, his green eyes softened. The weight around her neck released by a fraction, and she slammed her hindlegs against his chest with as much force as she could manage. It was enough. Winded, he staggered backwards, and she writhed free, flipping onto her front and whirling around to face him. She sprang, swiping at his forelegs, landed on the other side of him and pricked her ears.

_Use your other senses_. She waited for the crunch of sand, a heavy sound that told her Chestnutspike had turned around.

_There_. She wheeled around as fast as she could- light on her toes- and caught Chestnutspike mid-turn.

He was unbalanced by her swipe, legs crumbling,

She placed her paw on his shoulder and gave a truimphant trill.

“Should have paid attention,” she joked as she shook out her pelt.

“Not bad,” Campiontail stepped from the shadows and into the moonlit sand, “did you listen for his turn?”

“Yeah,”

“Hm, might be difficult in a real battle, but good thinking,” she glanced at Chestnutspike as he hauled himself to his paws. “Chestnutspike? Any thoughts?”

“No, good,” he rasped, drawing a paw over his face. His whiskers were frazzled. He looked tired. Pinepaw suddenly felt guilty for tripping him so hard.

“This night training-“ Chestnutspike began, his eyes glazing as he stared at Kiteheart, prowling around Teaselstalk with her tail lashing, Chickpaw and Orchidpaw watching with rapt attention.

“We’re going to fight WoodClan soon aren’t we?” He looked over his shoulder, and then back to them.

“Don’t think like that Chestnutspike,” flustered, Campiontail’s fur fluffed up and she glanced nervously at the apprentices, “night training is good, whether battle or hunting,”

There was a silence, Pinepaw scuffed a paw against the earth.

_Of course we’re going to fight WoodClan_ , a quiet voice inside her said, that’s why we train.

“No use dwelling on it,” Campiontail said quietly, “come on, she can’t have hurt your pride that much,” her jovial tone felt forced, and Pinepaw’s fur prickled.

On the other side of the clearing, Teaselstalk shrieked. Chestnutspike flinched.

“Yeah,” he got to his paws and bushed out his tail. Pinepaw lowered her gaze and glowered, trying to look vaguely menacing. 

She dropped into a crouch as Chestnutspike rounded on her. There was a dark glint in his eyes.

“Come on then, let’s see how _easy_ you think I am now,”


	5. Chapter 4

“Move your tail, you’re standing on my brambles,” Shellspine snapped as the apprentices stumbled out their den. The morning sunshine was bright, and camp was alive with activity.

“Sorry Shellspine,” Baypaw mumbled, scrambling over the awkward piles of bracken and thorns that had been left in the clearing. The entrance to the apprentice’s den was practically blocked in.

“Don’t apologise to her, she’ll only think your soft,” Dandelionpaw warned with a glance at the dark molly. Pinepaw yawned and fluffed up her tail. It was colder today. The air was chilly, heavy with the promise of rain. Leafbare was coming- the thought sent a chill down her spine.

Pinepaw glanced around, every warrior was doing something. Flaxstripe and Shellfoot were weaving brambles and fallen branches into the camp wall while Ouzelheart reinforced the warriors den. On the other side of camp, Goatfur was talking with the other mentors, but Campiontail was already waiting for Pinepaw.

“Coming with us Campiontail?” The grey tom asked with a twitch of his ears.

Campiontail replied with a dip of her head,

“Not today,” and wrapped her tail over Pinepaw’s flank to steer her away from Baypaw’s lively conversation. Pinepaw gave her denmates a longing glance, but then quicklY trotted after her mentor, annoyed, but glad to be free of chores and hunting in the forest.

She caught the last traces of Baypaw’s and Orchidpaw’s chatter before the wind swept the sound away, and followed Campiontail down the cliffs and into the woods.

“Don’t slip,” Campiontail called as Pinepaw began picking her way down the cliff. She slid out her claws, wincing every time slimy mud squeezed through her toes as she stepped, and slowly, carefully, slid her way down. Sunlight gleamed off the wet pines and the air was fresh and clear; it had rained overnight, and the rocky path down into the forest was slick with mud. Puddles gathered on the path and a trickle of rainwater poured down the cliffside, which she was mindful to avoid- muddy paws were the worst.

Campiontail was walking ahead of Pinepaw now, and they were in the forest following the stream to the river, far from camp. It was quiet, only the wind rustled the leaves, and occasionally, Pinepaw picked up squeals and squeaks now coming from the training hollow. Her stomach curled with jealousy.

“Why aren’t I training with the others today?” Pinepaw asked as she followed her mentor through the woodland.

“Because,” Campiontail kept ahead of her by a few paces, moving swiftly through the long grass, “I wanted to train you alone,” she slowed her pace as the stream flattened out and flowed into the marshes, a flatland of fluffy grass and low bushes, “and I wanted to talk to you,”

“What about?” Pinepaw felt curiousity- and worry- well up inside her, “my assessment?” She tipped her head, eyes hopeful.

“No, listen-“ Campiontail gave a sigh as she sat down on a rock and curled her tail around her paws, “I’m glad I have such an _eager_ apprentice, but could you try be more understanding to your denmates?”

Pinepaw stared at her mentor, confused. _Understanding?_ She felt her pelt prickle in annoyance.

“Orchidpaw, Chickpaw and Baypaw are younger than you,” Campiontail continued, “you and Baypaw are already thick as rogues and get into all sorts of trouble, and you were snappy with Orchidpaw and Chickpaw yesterday- they’re young, they’re not as excited for battle as you are,” she mewed, her tone accusatory and sharp.

Pinepaw scuffed the ground with a paw,

“S’not my fault that they don’t get it-“ she mumbled,

“No, but you could try help them, you’ve got most of the basic moves down perfectly, and it doesn’t hurt to be a bit more patient with the younger apprentices, and nicer to the senior warriors. You’re a good fighter, but not a good hunter, and I know you wouldn’t appreciate Baypaw giving you tips when hunting,” Campiontail’s mew was soft but stern, and Pinepaw looked away awkwardly. She hated being lectured.

“You’ve been training much longer than them,” Campiontail swept the grass with her tail, “you would have become a warrior if you didn’t fail your hunting assessment, I know you want to be a warrior, but just be patient, and please, don’t claw Chestnutspike,”

Pinepaw flicked an ear,

“I did it for the Clan,”

Campiontail gave a weak purr,

“You can line your nest with that arrogant flea-bags pelt another day,” her whiskers quivered. “Next time we train, I’ll show you how to pull out clumps,” she joked, dark humour flashing in her eyes. She gave Pinepaw a friendly touch on the shoulder with her tail.

“Will the others be able to come?” Pinepaw trotted around her mentor. _Am I gonna be stuck training alone?_

“We can train with them another day, and please, be nicer to them, especially with WoodClan-“ she trailed off, her eyes glazing as she stared across the river, lost in thought. Pinepaw turned her head to follow her gaze to the other side. The rolling plains of windswept grass were glittering with dew under the morning sun, the river snaked across the plains, waves lapping the rocky shore. A few dotted trees broke up the grass on the other side, filled with screeching birds; shrill warning cries of predators lurking in the grass. Pinepaw felt a shiver trickle down her spine; she remembered WoodClan, stalking through the forest, those three _huge_ warriors.

“I’ll try,” Pinepaw murmured as she looked back at her mentor. Her eyes were troubled, darkened by memories of the last battle with WoodClan.

“Good- and don’t worry, I’ve asked if you can come on another night training with the _warriors_ later,” Campiontail winked and waved Pinepaw forward with her tail.

“For now, we’re hunting for the Clan, go try catch something and come back here,” she nodded briskly and leapt across the stream to search the shaded bank for prey. Campiontail was sniffing around the rocks were she had been sat, and Pinepaw ducked into the forest to hunt.

She gazed around the trees, ears pricked, jaws parted. Scents washed over her, and she kept walking, deeper into the trees.

There was a faint trace of rabbit- and a few shrews- but why hunt tiny shrews if a fat rabbit was hiding in a holly thicket? _It would feed more of us._

Following the scent trail, she was led back towards the stream, and down to the marshes. She could hear the sawgrass rattling in the breeze, the soft splash of frogs hopping in the shade.

The water splashed around Pinepaw’s feet and she froze- she had to be quiet! How had she forgotten that? She shook her head and tasted the air, trying to focus as she looked around the marshes. Sharp reeds poked up from the sodden earth and rattled in the breeze. A lone larch tree squatted, stunted and short, on a patch of ground close to the river. Pinepaw could taste mud, earthy and rich, and faintly, rabbit.

She crouched low, bellyfur brushing the water, and spotted it. The rabbit loped through the water, sniffing at the grasses and cattails that sprouted from the dark mud. It was huge, meaty and plump. _No one would go hungry. Not again_. She had to get it.

She stumbled through the water, slowed by mud and her wet fur. The rabbit sprang up and leapt in a high arc as it skitted away. Frustration shot through Pinepaw and she sped up, crashing through the water. Sawgrass whipped her cheeks as she ran, splashing awkwardly after her prey.

There was a squeal, and Pinepaw halted, water spraying. Campiontail stood before her, the rabbit in her jaws, dripping water.

“You didn’t stalk it,” Campiontail mewed flatly. Pinepaw’s ears flattened but what could she say? Campiontail was right.

“I thought I could get it,” she muttered.

“Hunting in the marshes is difficult,” her mew was sympathetic, “You have to be wary of the water, but I shouldn’t have to be telling you that,”

Pinepaw grit her teeth. _You should be good at hunting!_ Dandelionpaw was an excellent hunter, patient and poised; she could keep the Clan fed.

“Pinepaw-“ Campiontail began awkwardly, “I don’t understand.”

“Huh?”

“Hunting. You. I-“ she frowned and scratched at her ear.

“I just don’t get it,” she mewed with frustration, “you’re all over the place, when it comes to fighting you listen and pay attention, but hunting? You’re a different cat.”

“Let me try again, I-“ what was that moving on the other side of the river? Pinepaw narrowed her eyes. The long grass, silver as the wind flattened it, shivered as a sleek shape stepped down onto the river bank. A WoodClan cat? Or a passing loner? Pinepaw stared as the cat, its pelt a smooth smokey grey, bent its head to lap from the river.

“It’s Blackwillow,” Campiontail’s fur was rippling, her muscles tense, “he’s a medicine cat,” and she relaxed, as if remembering the river between them. Blackwillow stopped drinking and shook water from his whiskers. The medicine cat raised his head and peered across the river. He had a narrow face and a long, thin tail that was raised high in alarm. The wind blew ripples across the river and Blackwillow stiffened as he caught their scent. She could see his eyes gleaming faintly from across the water- she swore she could anyway.

Campiontail gave a short bow of her head, and then turned to Pinepaw, eyes flashing, “Let’s go try hunt somewhere else,”

Pinepaw huffed in annoyance, he was only a medicine cat! And he was across the river, unless he could swim through the swift current, he couldn’t cross.

A bird wheeled noisily over the river, cawing, beating its sleek white wings as it flew away from Blackwillow.

“Let’s try somewhere else,” Campiontail mewed suddenly, jolted out of staring across the river.

Her mentor reached for the rabbit, who’s fur was now sticky with blood and water, and headed upstream.

Pinepaw followed, trotting back upslope into the forest. She cast a glance over her shoulder, peering back across the river to look for him, only to see a black tail tip vanish back between the windswept grass.

////

“Not bad,” Campiontail’s mew filled Pinepaw with pride as she padded back towards her mentor, a blackbird clamped between her jaws. She was dappled with sunlight, waiting on the curved crest of a rowan root.

“ _Mhmf_ ,” Pinepaw pulled a feather off her tongue as she sat down, wiping the down from her chest fur.

“Messy catch, but it’ll do,” she nosed the bird towards her own catch- a large rock dove and a fluffy shrew- and Pinepaw tried not to feel the sting.

Campiontail picked up her catch and began to head away, and Pinepaw followed indignately.

“It was midair,” she began,

“Pounce earlier then,”

“But it-“ she broke off as a twig snapped.

Campiontail froze. She whipped her head around.

“What was that?” She whispered.

Pinepaw looked around frantically. _That was a loud snap_ , she thought, flexing her claws. 

“A bird?” Campiontail tipped her head, muttering to herself. Her green eyes were slitted with fear.

The treeline didn’t move. It was quiet; no birds. The forest had gone silent.

“Over there-“ Pinepaw whispered, then halted. That sound was much bigger than a bird.

“Must be a badger,” Campiontail sniffed the air. Her eyes shimmered with doubt, and Pinepaw’s heart quickened. Frozen in place, she parted her jaws and let the air wash over her scent glands.The wind was blowing the wrong way and Pinepaw cursed. She had to know if there was something there.

She strained to see.

“We should climb, get a better look,” Pinepaw whispered.

Then, birdsong. The moment had passed. Campiontail relaxed with a sigh.

“It’s gone now,” Campiontail mewed. A thud made her ear fur tremble. It was not gone.

“What if it was WoodClan?”

Campiontail looked back at her, eyes widening. Her tail fluffed out.

“No- it can’t be,” she chewed on the inside of her cheek and Pinepaw could see her thinking; brow furrowed in concern, whiskers twitching.

“Are you sure?”

Campiontail didn’t reply.

“A fox, probably,” she shrugged her shoulders and began to pick at the moss beneath her claws, "not that bad, I'll let the warriors know,"

Pinepaw smouldered in silence.

“Well,” she mewed after a long, heavy silence, “let’s head back,”

Campiontail led the way, taking long, relaxed strides. Pinepaw could see that she was forcing it, and stayed alert for every sound, snap, crackle, as they began heading back through the forest. The sunlit path back to camp appeared behind a fallen dogwood, and Pinepaw hurried towards it, splashing through the clear stream and shivering. WoodClan had never owned the territory this side of the stream. It felt safer here than over there, in the dark shadows of the cliffs.

At the top of the path, Pinepaw pricked her ears. A distant, low rumble- _thunder?_ \- ruffled her ear fur, and when she looked up, she saw a bright flash between the clouds, like a bird, but bigger, and faster. It vanished as quickly as it appeared.

“What?” Campiontail stopped and glanced

Pinepaw chewed the inside of her cheek. _What was that?_

“Nothing, some bird, I think,”

Campiontail gave her a strange look.

_She thinks I’m crazy._

“Unless you can catch it Pinepaw, I wouldn’t worry,” she gave her a friendly tap on the chin with her tail and continued climbing the slope. Pinepaw frowned.

_Am I crazy?_

She thought of the shadows, the dark feeling that something was behind her; the sound of pawsteps in the forest. 

Too heavy to be WoodClan. Unless they really were as big as the stories said. They _looked_ as big as the stories said.

She shivered at the thought and continued after Campiontail, trying to relax as the fitful sun warmed her pelt.

Clouds had gathered along the ridge, and Pinepaw bit down on her lip as she studied the darkening sky. The roar she heard must have been thunder- the masses of smokey, dark clouds threatened rain, and the air was thick, crackling, with the hint of a storm.

Ouzelheart and Chestnutspike crested the ridge in front of them. The slender black molly was heading down into the forest, trotting besides her brother.

“I don’t know why you asked me-“ she was saying, and halted as Campiontail and Pinepaw passed.

Her mentor gave them both a friendly nod,

“Hunting later?”

“If this patrol doesn’t wear me out,” Ouzelheart flicked her skinny tail, glanced at her brother through narrowed eyes and watched as they walked past; when she thought they were out of earshot, she turned back to Chestnutspike, “I’m not saying you’re wrong-“ her voice was lost to the wind, and Pinepaw ignored it.

Littermate troubles, she felt her whiskers twitch. Her and Dandelionpaw were close as nesting chicks.

Back at camp, Campiontail gave her a nod,

“Good work, get some rest, okay?” She flicked her tail and then headed for the warriors den.

Flaxstripe was asleep outside, Slightcloud was grooming himself by the pool. Mallowshine was sprawled

Everything was quiet, but Pinepaw couldn’t shake the feeling she saw something.

Pinepaw sat on the grass and frowned to herself. She didn’t know what to think. It sounded _heavy_.

A voice broke her out of her thoughts,

“What do you look so worried for? Who are you? Ouzelheart?” Shellspine scoffed as she stared at Pinepaw.

“I- uh-“ her mind was whirling. Shellspine’s bright orange eyes were furiously staring into Pinepaw

“We think we saw WoodClan,” Pinepaw stammered.

“WoodClan!” Shellspine gasped with a flick of her feathery tail; loud enough to attract attention.

“Campiontail? Is this true?” Kiteheart rounded on them, her eyes fixed and stern.

“Uh- well- we _heard_ something,” she corrected with a glance at Pinepaw.

Kiteheart’s nostrils flared and she turned her head to glance at Campiontail; her face like thunder all of a sudden.

“I’ll discuss this with the _senior_ warriors then, thank you Pinepaw.” Kiteheart got to her paws and padded away, controlled and graceful as she leapt up the rocks and headed for Cranestar’s den.

“See! WoodClan!” She hissed as she dove into the den, Goatfur and Flaxstripe close behind.

Pinepaw stood awkwardly in camp for a heartbeat, listening to the stream trickle down the rocks. She shook out her pelt and cleared her head. It probably wasn’t anything.

She glanced around camp, scanning the bramble wall, spotted two sleek tortoiseshell pelts in the shade and hurried over.

Tallsun was sprawled under a patch of brambles, soaking in the sunshine a little way off from Dandelionpaw.

“Hello there,” her mother dipped her head as she approached. She paused, glanced at Dandelionpaw, as thought she expected her to say something, but she was asleep.

Tallsun cleared her throat,

“I see you’re still getting into trouble,” she mewed, looking back over her shoulder to Campiontail.

“I’m an apprentice, it’s what I do,”

“Hm,” she got to her paws slowly, carefully shaking the loose sand from her splotchy pelt. “I had hoped you wouldn’t have spent half your apprenticeship being punished for some hare-brained scheme,” she tipped her head curiously and sighed, “I guess you take after Nightstep more than me,”

Pinepaw’s heart squeezed. Tallsun’s eyes were surprisingly warm, gleaming with pride as she stared at Pinepaw.

“I’ll remember not to next time,”

“Of course you will,” Tallsun sighed and then gave her a lick on the forehead, “my little fireball,”

Pinepaw squirmed under her wet tongue and wriggled away,

“I’m almost a warrior-“ she squeaked. She didn’t need grooming like a kit.

“Of course,” Tallsun’s tail brushed alongside her flank as she padded away towards the rocks.

Pinepaw thunked her sister’s haunches with a hindleg.

“Get up,” she muttered. Dandelionpaw stirred with a trill.

“Sorry- didn’t see you there,” she yawned massively, stretched out her legs, and flicked her ears, glancing up at Pinepaw with bright eyes.

“Lazy bones,” Pinepaw gave her a poke in the shoulder, “you must be half dormouse,”

“That night training-“ she broke off with another yawn and then rolled onto her back, “I’ve literally never been this tired,”

Pinepaw sprang over her sister’s legs and landed on the other side of her, getting ready to wrestle her in the sand.

“A real warrior doesn’t get tired, I’m full of energy,”

“You haven’t been subjected to another lecture,” Dandelionpaw reached up to bat Pinepaw’s cheek with a paw,

“Oh? About how to serve your Clan?” Her whiskers trembled with amusement. Tallsun always had a few choice words about the correct path for a molly to take.

“You’re the one who needs it, not me,” Her paws batted at Pinepaw’s forelegs and she pinned Dandelionpaw with a mock growl. Her sister bit back, tussling her until they were both covered in sand.

“Is that the new tactic Teaselstalk’s been teaching you?” She sneezed, wiping sand out of her eyes.

“

“I’ll take note of it-“ she broke off with a jolt.

There was a sudden warning yowl, from deep in the forest. The bushes shook as a black molly crashed through. Her fur was spiked. Her eyes wild. She struggled for breath as the Clan hurried to her side; her flanks and face were spattered with blood.

_Ouzelheart_! Pinepaw leapt to her paws. Her pelt prickled as the air grew thick with fear scent, and blood.

“WoodClan crossed the border!” She gasped, shaking as she struggled for breath, “They’re heading for camp!”


	6. Chapter 5

Howls of outrage split the air. Pinepaw scrambled out the den, shredding her nest as she sprinted into the centre of camp. Ouzelheart was slumped over, blood pouring from her neck

“By the birch copse,” she gasped, “Sunstar- wants the forest,”

Instantly, Kiteheart sprang to the top of thef pool, barking orders with a prepared efficiency,

“Tallsun! Flaxstripe! Goatfur! Shellspine! Baypaw! You’re with me,” she whisked the air with her tail, sprang down onto the grass and called up a second patrol, “Campiontail, Chestnutspike, Slightcloud, Pinepaw, you’ll be back up,”

Pinepaw’s heart stopped. She was on a battle patrol! She barely heard her denmates mews as she stared at Kiteheart, organising the patrols.

“Good luck,” Dandelionpaw pressed against her, weaving her tail with hers. Pinepaw shook herself out of her daze and looked at Dandelionpaw with a nod

“I’ll be back with some WoodClan fur to line our nests,”

“To keep us nice and warm,” Dandelionpaw turned her head to face Pinepaw and touched her nose, “good luck, stay safe,”

Pinepaw stroked her tail across her sister’s shoulders and then hurried away to join the patrol. _She’s not coming with us, but at least she’ll be safe._ As she approached Campiontail she was hit by a wave of anxiety. She nearly stumbled over her paws, suddenly dizzy and her heart beating quickly.

She glanced at Baypaw, standing tall besides his mentor. His eyes glowed with confidence, and Pinepaw grew irritated at herself. Baypaw was younger than her for StarClan’s sake, why was she fretting like Orchidpaw before a hunt?

“You’re not tired?” Campiontail mewed. The warrior’s yellow eyes were fraught with worry. Pinepaw shook her head, unable to speak. She clenched her teeth and flexed her claws. _I am ready!_ She glanced around camp, forcing herself to calm. She was ready. Her tail trembled.

“All good warriors are nervous before their first battle,” Tallsun soothed as she walked up to her daughter. Pinepaw felt drawn to her, wanted to curl up in her soft fur. The warmth that radiated from her eased Pinepaw’s nerves.

“You think I’m a good warrior?” She tipped her head back and looked up at her mother. Her eyes shone like the sun. The warmth in her eyes was glowing, and Pinepaw shivered from nose to tail-tip.

“A great one,” she drew her tounge across Pinepaw’s face and purred, louder than thunder.

“First patrol, on me,” Kiteheart was already halfway out the camp, her fur bushed out. Tallsun turned to move, and the warmth in her eyes vanished, replaced by hard determination.

Pinepaw watched, shivering, as her striped tail vanished between the trees. A wind had kicked up; that’s why she was trembling. She fluffed up her fur and pressed her flank against Campiontail.

She felt a drop of rain splash onto her muzzle and she sneezed.

“Pinepaw!” Campiontail yelled, her tail high. They were going. She shivered with anticipation.

Pinepaw charged after the patrol, struggling to keep up. As they left camp, the wind battered her face, and the sudden cold made her flinch. The night was far off, but the forest was darkened by the shadow of the valley. Pinepaw trailed behind, cold, shivering. Rain sliced down from the canopy, splashing down onto the dark moss. Chestnutspike lumbered ahead of her by a few fox lengths, and she struggled to keep up.

Frustration and fear filled Pinepaw as the patrol quickened, heading deeper into unfamiliar forest. She lost her bearings. Here the moss was dark, the ferns had delicate black stems and delicate leaves, the trees were slimy with lichen. And above it all, the reek of WoodClan soaked the air. Pinepaw forced herself to remain calm. Her heart hammered against her throat. They were in WoodClan territory, circling back around to the border to catch the invaders from behind. The patrol slowed to navigate the thick undergrowth, until Campiontail stopped and raised her tail.

 _Are we lost?_ Pinepaw tore at the earth with her claws. 

_We should climb! It’ll give us a better view_. She thought as her heart began to race with panic.

Then a shriek split the air and she froze. The forest exploded sudden with noise. Caterwauls and screams shattered the air, and Pinepaw felt the urge to cover her ears as the cacophony grew.

The earth seemed to tremble with the force of the fight, and Pinepaw grew dizzy as Campiontail gave the signal to move again. She crept silently, pawstep after pawstep towards the shrieking battlefield.

They had found the patrol. Through the slender grasses and creeping ivy she could see the battle, and she could _smell_ it.

Blood, hot and tangy, mixed with the stomach-turning reek of fear. Flesh and fur littered the leaf floor. A yellow tom was lying on his side, eyes wide, unblinking, his tongue lolling from his mouth.

Campiontail veered to the side, and Pinepaw followed, blind with sudden terror. She squeezed under a spiky juniper, water sliding down her back, and instantly stumbled to Campiontail’s side. She was breathing hard. The yellow tom’s face flashed in her mind.

She peered through the branches, shaking.

With a jolt of terror Pinepaw recognised Shellspine, her teeth deep in the throat of some bulky grey tom while another warrior clawed at her back.

“On my signal,” Campiontail whispered. Nightstep and Chestnutfur gave twitches of their ears and tensed, shoulders flexing. Pinepaw’s mind whirled. What was the signal? When should they join? She stared through the juniper into the clearing.

There were countless cats. WoodClan and CreekClan, a blur of pelts, white, grey, red, black- she shook her head. She had training. Campiontail had trained her for this.

 _Front paw swipe. Belly scratch. Leap-and-hold._ She ran over each one in her head, staring at the writhing mass of cats in front of her. _Duck and scratch. Tail pull. Don’t forget your back claws!_ A tail tip touched her shoulder and Pinepaw looked to her side to see Chestnutspike, focused on the battle, reaching his tail over. Pinepaw saw the fierce courage in his eyes, the strength in his shoulders, and his long, curved claws. Every doubt she had about him vanished, she knew he was her Clanmate. They would fight together. She swallowed.

Confidence surged through her. She took a breath.

There was a screech of anger. Pinepaw’s head snapped up. Kiteheart staggered on her hind legs, blood spraying from her leg. A white and brown tom leapt up and she vanished under a swarm of pelts, her shriek lost in the noise.

“Go!”

Pinepaw raced out from under the juniper. Claws flashing, she raced for Kiteheart and sprang at a pale tom with darker fur on his bloodied paws. Her claws sank deep into his back and he shrieked in fury. The tom reared back, and Pinepaw’s grip fell. She sprang off, paws hitting the wet earth and spraying mud as she slipped to the side.

 _Stupid mud!_ She snarled. She hadn’t expected that. Caught offguard, the tom launched himself at her, and she shrieked. 

Pain shot through her face as his fast swipe hit, claws slicing across her face. Blood welled up as his claws scored across her cheek and his sharp blow threw her head to side. She slipped, staggering in the mud. She had to get away from his claws, get a better position, get on top of him, claw him, anything, but the mud was dragging her down and she could barely stay upright to dodge his swipes.

_Mud!_ She stared at the wide puddles that soaked the ground. Snarling, Pinepaw wheeled around, reared up, and splashed down as hard as she could.

Thick blobs of mud sprayed up and hit the tom in his face. With a growl of triumph, Pinepaw lashed out with her claws. She felt his flesh rip as she slashed at his chest and face, and then blood sprayed as she clawed him, driving him back across the wet ground.

The tom shrieked and darted off, vanishing into the bracken.

 _I did it!_ Pinepaw stood, half terrified, half proud, in the thick of battle. Then she snapped back to reality, and a weight hit her side.

She slammed into a puddle, water spraying up, a paw over her muzzle, claws digging in deep.

“This is our forest!” A black molly leaned over her, blood dripping from her eye and snarling as Pinepaw flailed at her belly with her hind claws. She tore out chunks of sleek fur and the molly arched her back, hissing violently. In the instant she loosened her grip, Pinepaw slashed a paw across her chest.

She lurched backwards in pain, the whites of her eyes bulging as she screamed, and Pinepaw rolled and tried to scrambled away. The black molly was quick as lightning, and bit down on Pinepaw’s shoulder.

Pain shot through her. A shriek was torn from her throat. Her legs buckled and she collapsed back into the mud. Water greedily sucked her fur. The rain hammered on. The molly bit deeper and sunk her claws into Pinepaw’s neck.

She was pinned, legs under her like she was asleep, sinking into the ground.

“Give in, foxheart?” The molly snarled. Rage shot through Pinepaw. Thinking fast, she rolled over, catching the molly’s face in her claws and dragging her down. She sliced her claws down her face again and again and again but her grip did not loosen. Pinepaw began to panic, her blows missing as the molly raised her head and dodged each swipe.

The molly was fast; swiping a paw across Pinepaw’s face and slamming her muzzle into the ground. Her vision blacked out for a heartbeat. Her mind was scrambled. Pain blurred her vision. There was no smart trick to get out of this. She could feel the mud oozing into her mouth as she was pressed into the ground.

Campiontail’s voice snuck into her head. _Never fight a warrior twice your size- know your limits Pinepaw!_ Her leg throbbed with pain. She couldn’t do this. Her mind whirled. She scanned the crowd.

Pinepaw dashed forward and ran. _It’s not running away_ , she desperately thought as she crashed through the bushes and collapsed, heaving for breath. she slouched to the ground, leg in front of her, _it’s checking my wounds._

It wasn’t deep- just long, and angry. She rasped her tongue over it, gagging at the taste of blood, and rolled her head back to stare through the branches at the sky. The rain was heavier, hammering down and bouncing off the bush’s glossy leaves. Straining for breath, Pinepaw glanced back at her leg, nausea washing through her. Pink flesh pulsed and throbbed and the rain sent rivulets of blood down her fur.

She squeezed her eyes shut, raised her head to look back at the battle, and opened her eyes.0

The sight of it hit Pinepaw like a rockfall. This wasn’t the organised, back and forth fighting like they had practiced; no well trained, graceful warriors striking each other. Here, Shellspine was soaked in blood and rain, madly scrambling in the mud to sink her claws into grey fur and rip. Here, Flaxstripe was pinned by a bristling pale tabby, fur and flesh flying as they tussled. Pinepaw’s heart was in her throat.

She was scared. Terrified.

 _Don’t be a coward!_ Anger bubbled in her stomach, anger at herself.

She couldn’t be scared. Warriors weren’t scared.

She dug her claws into the ground and grit her teeth in frustration. Pain lanced through her shoulder as she pressed herself in the ground. She was okay, she was fine. She had beat that one WoodClan warrior, and managed to escape the other one; she wasn’t going to get hurt.

Her breathing began to level out. _Just a few more seconds, then I’ll_ \- the thought of going back suddenly made her heart pick up pace again.

She could hear whimpering. Ears pricked, she looked around. Someone was with her.

Baypaw was crouched in the shadow of the thicket. His face was sprayed with blood. Pinepaw forgot about her shoulder and moved,

“Are you injured?” Horror gripped her like claws. She frantically hobbled forward to study his pelt. His breathing was rapid, his eyes peeled back with terror.

“N-no,” Baypaw stammered and backed away from her prodding paws.

“Then what’s all this blood?” He was soaked with it, blood and mud smeared through his glossy fur. So much of it- dripping off his haunches, drying across his frantic chest.

Pinefrost narrowed her eyes.

That wasn’t his blood, he didn’t have a scratch on him. Then it hit her.

He was hiding.

All of Pinepaw’s fear turned to anger and all her anger came rushing out,

“What are you doing?”

Adrenaline made her pain fade. She wasn’t scared, definitely not. How could he be scared? How could he be so weak? CreekClan cats were not weak. She clenched her teeth together, staggering to her paws.

“Coward,” she spat. Her eyes flashed with rage and she could see her reflection- teeth bared, ears pinned back- in Baypaw’s green eyes.

She could feel blood trickling down her shoulder and pushed the feeling away, deep down

Without another thought, she sprang out of the thicket and raced back towards the thick of the fight.

Cats were screaming, howling, clashing with each other in the mud and trampled ferns. Pinepaw didn’t know what she was doing, she just raced towards the battle field.

In front of her, the battle raged. Flaxstripe and Slightcloud were fighting back to back, claws and teeth whirling at the warriors that rushed them. Shellspine was wrestling a huge tabby, ripping tufts of thick fur out. Chestnutspike was pinned down by two warriors, Campiontail rushing to his aide. Next to them, was a black molly, cornered by a bristling gold warrior. 

“Tallsun!” Pinepaw span away from Baypaw and dashed towards her mother. She lurched forward across the slippery waeth but a massive paw caught her across the face. She staggered backwards. A monster, a huge tom, his white and brown fur darkened with blood, loomed before her.

His lips were drawn back to reveal mangled yellow teeth. His whiskers were ripped out, and he was missing both his ear tips.

Pinepaw was frozen in terror, then a yowl from Tallsun jolted her back to reality. The tom slashed his claws out, lunging towards her like a badger. Pinepaw ducked to the side and growled in frustration. _I have to get to Tallsun!_

Her mother was trapped besides Goatfur, bristling with fury. Pinepaw could see her briefly, before the tom whirled around to strike at her bleeding shoulder. Determination hardened her heart and she remembered the move Campiontail taught her. Her claws shot out, and Pinepaw honed in on the tom.

“Get back to your own territory!” Pinepaw snarled. She tensed her hindquarters, and leapt up, claws out, and landed on the tom’s shoulders. Gripping his fur, she tore at his back and scored her claws across his spine. Her shoulder blazed with pain, and she lost her grip. A claw ripped out her paw as she flew, and hit the earth.

Barely standing, she felt a tingling pain rippled up her leg, and she squeezed her eyes shut. Her paw felt numb. She skittered backwards to dodge another sharp swipe.

In the corner of her eye, Kiteheart lunged at another warrior. Slightcloud had his claws in another, Chestnutfur was kicking out at a grey and white warrior. The tide of battle was shifting.

The tom lunged. Pinepaw sprang, pain shooting up her legs. Her claws sliced through his ear and he buckled, howling. Blood sprayed through the air in a clean arc. She hit the ground with a thud, shock pulsing through her. Before she could turn around there was a shriek,

“WoodClan!” A huge golden warrior leapt onto a log at the side of the clearing, “retreat!” before pelting away, deep into the forest.

Warriors barged past her, charging across the forest to escape. Pinepaw was carried by the force of them, and she screeched in fear as a tom blindly trampled her. Squirming in the mud, she writhed to stand again, head swimming. Where was Tallsun?

“Chase them!” Kiteheart screeched. CreekClan surged forward. Pinepaw was torn. _Where is she?_

Pinepaw desperately scrambled to stand on the slippery earth, struggling to see with the blood in her eyes. Wet leaf mulch and thick mud sucked at her fur.

She scanned the crowd, her paws carrying her away from the forest as she followed Kiteheart’s order. _She’ll be okay._

She swallowed her worry and shot after a warrior that tore past her. A tail bobbed ahead of her, bushed out with fear, and Pinepaw followed. She leapt over logs and ferns, ducked branches, side stepped snaking brambles. The rain picked up under it was a continuous roar that echoed in Pinepaw’s ears.

The forest suddenly stopped and she burst out onto a flat stretch of grass. The warrior in front of her sped up, and crossed the grass in a heartbeat before leaping onto a fallen pine that spanned the length of a gorge.

Pinepaw’s heart stopped. She skidded to a halt and slammed into the tree, branches catching her. The constant roar wasn’t the rain, it was the river.

It surged beneath her, white water leaping up the cliff face. It splashed and surged and bellowed with hunger as it ate away the rock and smashed down the gorge.

Pinepaw stared up at the bleak grey sky as a bolt of lightning shot through the sky, bright blue against ash-grey cloud. Then, on the other side of the gorge, movement. A huge, sun yellow tom. He was stood at the end of the tree, crouched on its massive roots, jaws split in a terrible snarl.

“You won’t win next time CreekClan!” His voice shook Pinepaw with terror. It was full of malice and hatred, as brash as the lightning that crashed above.

WoodClan cats fled around him, jostling to the safety of the flat woodland.

Cold, hard terror filled Pinepaw as the tom gave a fierce yowl and then vanished, leaping from the roots onto the soaked grass.

She whipped her head around. WoodClan stragglers had been caught by her furious Clanmates. Kiteheart had leapt on a black tom on the fallen tree. They were balanced precariously over the gorge, wrestling between branches and snapped twigs.

Another WoodClan warrior was racing from the forest edge to the tree. He stumbled, hitting the ground face first.

Goatfur pounced on him.

Pinepaw untangled herself from the branches and pelted to her Clanmates, shaking dead needles from her fur.

Campiontail’s eyes widened with relief as she saw Pinepaw. Her dark fur was plastered to her, and she was soaked with blood. A thick gash on her leg pulsed and oozed.

“Thank StarClan,” she breathed. Pinepaw was heaving for breath and purred weakly. Thunder rolled in the distance.

“Sunstar-“ Flaxstripe rasped as he dragged himself from the bracken. Pinepaw swallowed nausea as she saw the pale tom. His leg was bloodied, his ears shredded, his eyes bright with fear. Pinepaw followed his trembling gaze to where the tom had been. _That was Sunstar_. Fear tingled along her spine.

“He’s gone,” Campiontail nudged Flaxstripe’s shoulder, inspecting the claw marks that littered his pelt. Pinepaw winced at the raw scent of blood and looked away, back to the gorge.

Kiteheart was still fighting a tom on the bridge, Goatfur had let the scrawny warrior he was clawing go, and WoodClan was escaping.

In the corner of her eye a shape burst from the undergrowth. A black and white molly with a striped tail. Tallsun sprinted towards Kiteheart and the black tom, carried by wings of anger.

Pinepaw blinked away rain as her mother sprang onto the tree and leapt at the tom, burying her teeth and claws into his side.

“Callafur!” Came a shout from the other side. The tom writhed and jerked and Kiteheart escaped from his grasp, staggering away. Tallsun gave a snarl as lightning lit the gorge.

For a terrifying heartbeat, the whole world was white. Kiteheart limped. Callafur crouched. Tallsun leapt forward, claws glinting in the cold lightning.

Pinepaw watched, frozen in fear. They broke, springing apart, fur flying. Blood dripped from Tallsun’s whiskers.

Tallsun faced the tom, her yellow eyes burning with fire. She lashed out with a forepaw, claws plunging straight into the tom’s throat.

A wail came up from the tree bridge.

Blood, bright red, spilled from his torn throat. Callafur staggered, and, with the last strength in his body, fell forward. His claws dug into Tallsun’s thick pelt. His hindlegs gave way. The tom collapsed, sliding over the edge, with Tallsun in his grasp.

Both warriors fell down. Down into the gorge, to the foaming white water. The roar of the river swallowed them both, and neither warrior resurfaced.

“No!”


	7. Chapter 6

Rain dripped from the forest canopy. A chill hung in the wet air. Something screeched in the depths of the forest then fell silent again.

Pinepaw stumbled forward up the slope. Her mind was blank. She was vaguely aware of Campiontail besides her, her steady presence leading Pinepaw back to camp.

Camp. Home. Pinepaw stumbled over the rocks and loose pebbles as she followed the patrol. Her eyes kept unfocusing, she tripped on stones she knew were there.

“Come on,” Slightcloud mewed, his voice soft. Pinepaw stumbled ahead, following the road home.

She raised her head blearily and stared at the thin patrol, searching for Ouzelheart; there she was, limping besides Chestnutfur and Baypaw. The young apprentice was propped up by the warriors, all of them struggled to walk up the uneven slope. All three cats were bloodied, missing fur, leaning on each other for support. Both of Baypaw’s ears were shredded, and Pinepaw grew even more heartbroken at the sight of her battered denmate. He looked so small, so crushed. She looked away pointedly when he caught her eye and forced her gaze to harden. _He’s a coward, he hid while you fought._

She kept moving.

The camp wall came into view, tall brambles, sharp thorns pointing outwards into the forest. A murmur ran through the patrol.

“You should see Sedgenose first,” Pinepaw heard Chestnutspike mew to Baypaw. The tom’s eyes were cloudy with grief, his tail hung low behind him, defeated.

She made it through the camp tunnel, and instantly felt shattered. Her whole body called for sleep. She wanted to curl up in her nest, close her eyes, and wake up next morning to discover it was all a horrible dream.

“Did you chase them off?” Teaselstalk’s mew was thick with worry as he saw the patrol filter in.

There was a squeak from the nursery, and Sandkit and Webkit bowled out. Squealing, the kits tottered towards the patrol, only to be swept back by their mother.

“Did you win?” Sandkit squealed like a caught mouse, wriggling away from Mallowshine. The pale queen grabbed her kit and swept her back into her belly, ears flat with embarrassment. A sudden spark of anger blazed through Pinepaw; how could they be so happy? Didn’t they know how to behave?

She felt her claws scrape the ground and turned away, tail lashing, unsure of where to go. She wanted to be alone, away from camp, away from the driving rain and murmuring warriors. Her heart grew hot with emotion. Anger, fear, sorrow, confusion, hatred welled up inside her. WoodClan. WoodClan took Tallsun. She didn’t realise she was trembling until Dandelionpaw laid her thick, fluffy tail across her back.

“We won, but we lost Tallsun,” Kiteheart rasped. Pinefrost stumbled into her sister, face buried in her thick fur.

_I couldn’t save Tallsun from that warrior_. Pinepaw squeezed her eyes shut. If I beat that tom and got to her, she wouldn’t of ran after him, she’d of stayed with me.

“I’m sorry,” she gasped. Dandelionpaw fell limp and collapsed. Pinepaw was dragged down with her.

“What?” Dandelionpaw choked. She trembled, ears dropping, tail shaking. She couldn’t speak.

Pinepaw glanced up weakly, heart squeezing at the sight of her.

“She died saving Kiteheart,” a deep mew sounded above Pinepaw’s head and she looked up to see Chestnutspike, soaked by rain, looking at them both. For a second he looked like the young apprentice she once trained with.

“What?” Dandelionpaw echoed.

“She’s gone,”

Dandelionpaw’s ears flattened against her head and she let out a low wail of grief, claws squelching against the grass.

“She was a brilliant mentor to me after Snowfoot died, I’ll never forget that,” Chestnutspike nosed Dandelionpaw’s ear and then Pinepaw’s. He was cold. His fur smelt of dirt and blood; a bitter tang that made Pinepaw retch. She could feel blood drip from the wounds along his jaw onto her. Pinepaw’s throat closed up as he leaned into them both and sighed.

“What will we do?” Dandelionpaw croaked as she joined Pinepaw, huddling close to Nightstep. Pinepaw felt her besides her, leaning on her as if he needed someone to prop her up. Her breath was coming in short, choking gasps.

“We’ll get them back,” Pinepaw whispered into her sister’s fur. She felt Dandelionpaw tremble, shake.

Pinepaw raised her head to look at Cranestar, standing on the rocks around the pool. Her pelt clung to her frame as the rain hammered down, occasionally picking up as the wind drove down the valley. The rain bounced off her fur, shimmering around her like mist. She was so still; grey eyes unreadable as she stared at the ragged Clan around her.

_We were so unprepared_. Pinepaw’s heart closed around a twinge of anger inside her, growing stronger as she stared at her Clan leader. _If we had more border patrols like Kiteheart said, we’d never have been caught off guard like this_. She grit her teeth and suddenly looked away as Cranestar stared at her. Her fur prickled with guilt.

How could she doubt her leader’s judgement?

“Orchidpaw! Chickpaw!” Kiteheart sprang onto the rocks besides her leader, a fresh wound slicing her shoulder fur, “help Sedgenose treat wounds,” the deputy shook out her pelt and then walked towards

Grief pierced Pinepaw’s heart, as sharp and cold as ice, strong enough to make her body shake. Tallsun had saved her Clanmate, but she was gone. Pinepaw could hear the roar of the gorge echo in the ears, the wailing from the WoodClan cats, yowls full of hatred.

“We’ll be okay,” Dandelionpaw answered with a heavy sigh.

“She saved my life,” Kiteheart bowed her head and Pinepaw saw her whiskers tremble, her tail drop between her legs, “I will never forget that,”

The deputy’s eyes hardened as she stared

“You must avenge her, make WoodClan pay for what they did,”

Pinepaw flexed her claws, feeling the wet earth squelch under them. Hot anger roiled through her stomach. _Revenge_. She grit her teeth.

She felt Dandelionpaw shiver, and glanced at her. Her green eyes were wide with horror as she watched Kiteheart stalk away.

“Revenge?” Dandelionpaw mewed.

Pinepaw didn’t say anything.

A splash of rain landed on her nose and she sneezed. The air was cold, fresh.

“Let me see your flank,” a soft, honeyed mew sounded next to Pinepaw, but she barely registered Sedgenose.

“You need to keep it clean,” Sedgenose said, pawing at the gash along her side.

The medicine cat prodded at her fur, and then began lapping a thick green paste onto her wound. It stung, but Pinepaw didn’t have the energy to react. She felt frozen. She could see Goatfur and Kiteheart talking, Sedgenose chewing marigold, Dandelionpaw pressing her forehead against her mentor’s flank, but Pinepaw didn’t recognise the scene.

This was CreekClan camp, but not her home. Suddenly the forest felt very vast and Pinepaw felt very small; a lost kit, wailing for her mother in the mist. A gap opened up inside her, cold, hollow.

“You should get some rest,” Sedgenose sounded as if she spoke underwater, “that wound could get infected, it’s filthy,”

Pinepaw shook her head automatically, barely listening.

“It’s an order, Pinepaw,” Sedgenose’s mew was joined by Campiontail’s.

“Get some sleep,” Campiontail nudged her shoulder.

She moved listlessly, like she was stuck in mud, towards the apprentice den. Dandelionpaw was right besides her, shivering with cold as she clambered into their nests. Pinepaw leaned forward, paws tucked under her, and pushed her muzzle into her sister's pelt. She stayed frozen still, her mind racing, her heart pounding, until finally, exhaustion closed over her like a wave.

////

Pinepaw rolled a ball of moss under her paw and huffed. It was cold. Leaf-fall was coming. She could smell the decaying forest, the wet, damp air, and fluffed up her fur against the chill. A dark sky showed through the cracks in the den wall, thick cloud and mist lingering in the valley.

The camp was silent apart from the trickle of water that Pinepaw had learned to tune out.

Can no one keep this den tidy? Pinepaw restlessly turned over onto her side. She was tired, but awake. Her body called for sleep but her mind ticked on, running through thoughts she couldn’t quite grasp. Grief swamped her and Pinepaw had to shake her thoughts away as memories of the battle resurfaced. She folded her paws over her ears as WoodClan howled in her head. Lightning crashed, the gorge roared.

Tossing and turning all night, Pinepaw was glad when dawn rose; pale pink light shimmered through the forest canopy and Pinepaw slowly, quietly, stepped from the den. The air was crisp with the scent of rain, but the clouds were thin over camp, and distant sunlight promised warmth later in the day. Pinepaw stiffened as a few warriors crept from their den besides the yew, weary with sleep. Poultices glistened on their pelts and they moved slowly, sore and battered from yesterday.

She saw Baypaw, rushing between the medicine den and the yew tree, carrying herbs in his jaws. His pelt was frazzled, dusted with leaves.

“What are you doing up so early?” Goatfur grumbled as he padded past her to the fresh kill pile.

“Mourning,” Pinepaw mewed bluntly. Her head felt numb.

"Good morning to you," Shellspine winked breezily and sauntered into the centre of camp. A poultice glistened on her flank, "I'm fixing for a dawn patrol Kiteheart," she mewed

“Feel free,” Kiteheart grumbled. The deputy drew a paw over her face and sighed. Pinepaw smelt the sour reek of herbs and infection from inside the den and hurriedly walked away into the centre of camp.

Soon, the rest of camp was awake. Pinepaw looked away when Campiontail staggered from the warriors den. Her matted fur stuck up in every direction, spiky as thistles, and her eyes were glazed.

“Just sore,” Campiontail hissed through clenched teeth, “take my apprentice on patrol would you-“ she broke off as she spotted Pinepaw, hunched miserably in the damp brambles, “forget it,”

Baypaw glanced at Pinepaw, and she curled up tighter. I don’t need anyone’s pity! She folded her tail over her nose and he hurried after Campiontail to the medicine cat den. Teaselstalk was rounding up the apprentices by the den, when Ouzelheart ran up to him and whispered something in his ear. Pinepaw ducked her head as both of them turned to look at her. She felt a faint twinge of annoyance, her fur growing hot at the Clans stares. _Leave me alone!_

Soon, the sun was high above the trees, and camp was empty. Slowly uncurling, Pinepaw stretched. She glanced around camp, glad to see it was nearly empty. She didn’t want to be seen, she wanted to be alone, just for a bit.

Campiontail was asleep outside the medicine den, a scowl of pain on her face, while Baypaw lounged besides her, talking with Sedgenose. The elders were relaxing in the shade, one eye on the kits, the other on the fresh kill pile. Pinepaw’s stomach cramped with hunger as she approached it and she stared at the pickings. There wasn't much.

“If you can’t go on patrol, at least go look after the elders or queens,” Goatfur's mew jerked her out of her staring. He was leaning down at her from the rocks.

“Show some kindness Goatfur,” came a raspy mew, “She is only young,” Oakbark straightened his whiskers with a paw and then tucked it back under himself. Goatfur gave a grunt and stalked off, shoulders hunched.

“He was born on the wrong side of the nest, don’t mind him,” the elder mewed with a small glance at Pinepaw.

“There’s no excuse for unkindness Oakbark,” Hollytangle countered as she slipped from the elders den. Her black fur was crumpled and patchy, sticking out in unruly tufts. Her tail was long, and the fur equally matted.

“Are you not training today?” She asked, her green eyes bright. Pinepaw shook her head and withdrew her paws from the water, “well, perfect, I’m going for a walk, and I could use some company,”

“Use someone to catch you some fresh-kill more like!” Pricklepelt snorted. Pinepaw ignored the elder and looked at Hollytangle’s paws, avoiding her sympathetic gaze. She could feel Campiontail watching her. I don’t want her to think I’m weak.

“Sure,”

“Well, come on,” Pinepaw was steered from the pool and across camp by her, and practically pushed out of camp and into the forest.

Hard stone scraped under paw and Hollytangle paused to scan the horizon. She then pointed at the cliffs with her chin and set off without a word.

Hollytangle walked slowly, and Pinepaw was fine with dully trotting behind her as she led the way down the cliffs. A pang of sadness shook her as the thin silt turned to sandstone and slate, and she recognised the pathways her and Dandelionpaw and Baypaw played on. Pinepaw dug her claws into the ground as the wind swept across the cliffs. The forest canopy rustled, and she spotted a squirrel darting across the oaks towards the border.

“I love this view,” Hollytangle murmured. Pinepaw scampered alongside her, claws scraping slate, and gave a small mew of agreement. Sunlight glittered on the forest canopy, and when Pinepaw smelt the familiar lushness of the forest, her heart lifted. “I love this forest,” the elder slowed a little as they approached a path that would take them down into the trees.

“I guess that’s why you joined CreekClan,” Pinepaw gave a faltering purr as she padded into the cool shade and the scents of the forest opened up.

“Ah, back when I was an apprentice, WoodClan owned most of the forest,” she swept her tail towards a crooked juniper tree with whorled bark, “the border was just past that tree, stretching all the way to the marshes,”

Hollytangle steered Pinepaw away from the old border and headed deeper into the forest.

“Before that, it was all the way up to the stream,” she mewed, brushing past a grass thicket and holding up a bramble tendril for Pinepaw to squeeze under.

“All the way to the stream?” Pinepaw’s stomach clenched.

“All the way, just like last leafbare,” she touched Pinepaw’s shoulder with her tail tip before whisking it away, her eyes soft with sadness, “that battle was brutal, we lost so many warriors,” Hollytangle trailed off with another heavy sigh.

In silence, she padded forward, her tail drooping, and Pinepaw shivered.

_Last leafbare_ … her mind began to wander.

“I remember the last Gathering,” Hollytangle gave a twitch of her whiskers as Pinepaw’s eyes widened. ”I was probably your age, I’d just joined CreekClan, Cranestar was still deputy, it was so long ago,”

“What happened?” Pinepaw’s fur prickled. As they crested a ridge, she caught a glimpse of the Lightning Tree’s gnarled branches between the windswept trees. The breeze died, and the trees closed in, and the Lightning Tree vanished from sight.

“Ah, my memory’s not what it used to be, but a young warrior named- Skunktail, I think, attacked the deputy, Lotusfang. StarClan sent a storm to strike the tree and burn down the forest as a warning, the Clans shouldn’t meet again- or, atleast, that was how the medicine cats saw it,”

“WoodClan attacked our deputy?” Pinepaw gave a low growl.

“There had been a battle a few days before, over the marshes. I’d only joined CreekClan the moon before, and I was allowed to go to the Gathering to make it seem like CreekClan had healthy, uninjured warriors,” her whiskers twitched with amusement, but then she sighed, “it was my first, and last Gathering.”

Pinepaw padded alongside her silently. Hollytangle’s eyes were misty with memory, and Pinepaw couldn’t help the spark of jealously inside her. She’d never know what a Gathering was like, she’d never get to meet WoodClan under the full-moon truce. Skunktail and the WoodClan warriors had ruined that for her.

_WoodClan started it,_ she thought. Anger began to boil inside her. _WoodClan!_ They were the cause of the trouble in the forest. WoodClan and rogues threatened the Clan constantly. How could Cranestar not see it? Pinepaw hunched her shoulders and trekked onwards.

“Why did you join CreekClan?” Pinepaw asked. CreekClan was fairly isolated from Twolegplace; she’d heard rumours of kittypets in WoodClan, but never in CreekClan. Kittypets and rogues were their enemies.

“Safety, I suppose,” She answered after a long pause, “the warrior code gave me guidance, purpose, I wasn’t just a molly roaming the forest anymore,”

Hollytangle suddenly stopped, and Pinepaw halted behind her instantly, fur prickling.

Her mind was reeling. Hollytangle jabbed a paw into her side.

“Look,” she gestured her head towards a flat, fallen log. A chaffinch hopped along its bare sides. Pinepaw licked her lips. “I could do with some dinner,”

Pinepaw gave a silent nod and slipped into a hunting crouch. Campiontail’s voice filled her head. _Time your jump right!_ Pinepaw slithered forward, light on her paws, tail stiff behind her. She paced forward, intent on the bird.

She sprang up, claws outstretched- but she was too late- and the chaffinch fluttered noisily away, wing tips skimming her glinting claws. Pinepaw landed with a snarl. _You’re supposed to be a good hunter!_

Her claws flexed with anger and embarassment flooded her pelt.

“Never mind,” Hollytangle clucked, her mew was forcefully light. 

Something glistened ahead of them, silver vines snaking across the forest.

“What in StarClan-?” The black elder halted, fear spiking her pelt. Whorls of hard vine curled across the rocks, bunched in places, stretched in some. Sharp thorns stuck out along the vine, evenly separated.

“What is it?” Pinepaw’s fur prickled. She smelt Twolegs.

“Some kind of Twoleg thing,” Ouzelheart’s face appeared from behind a rock, “I’ve been watching it all day,” her eyes glistened with worry, “it hasn’t moved,”

“It looks like the stuff Twolegs put on fences, silverthorn,” Hollytangle mewed, tipping her head. Ouzelheart shot Pinepaw a look of horror and confusion.

Curious, Pinepaw cautiously dabbed at it with a paw, then sprang back as the coil shook and shivered. It was cold and hard.

“Don’t!” Hollytangle yelped as the strange vine rattled and writhed, “it could cut your paws,” she looked up and gave Ouzelheart a nod, “you should build a barrier around it,”

“Slightcloud’s gone back to camp,” Ouzelheart explained as she sat down on a rock, a safe distance from the vines, “I thought it was one of those fox traps from moons ago,”

Hollytangle shrugged,

“Could be, StarClan knows what Twolegs get up to,” she touched Pinepaw’s shoulder with her tail, “come on, back to camp, my old bones can’t walk as far as they used to,”

Pinepaw felt a familiar spark of wonder as the elder began shambling back to camp. She watched briefly as Hollytangle picked up her pace, settling into an even, lengthy stride.

“How far have you travelled?”

Hollytangle slowed to let Pinepaw catch up and walked alongside her.

“Oh, too far,” her mew rumbled with a purr, “all over Twolegplace, across the mountains, I’ve seen countless rivers and met countless cats,” her purr caught in her throat, “come on, less dwelling on the past, more catching me some dinner,”


	8. Chapter 7

A blackbird sprang through the undergrowth and into the air, and Pinepaw’s claws missed it by a whisker.

She slammed back down on the forest floor and gave a sharp hiss of frustration.

Why hadn’t she gone earlier? Why had she tried to go straight for it, not stalking? Why couldn’t she catch anything? She only had a shrew and a measly mouse, that wouldn’t feed anyone.

“You’re hunting birds, Pinepaw,” Campiontail’s voice carried through the trees as she padded into view. “Speed is the key,” Pinepaw looked away, she could see her mentor’s whiskers trembling with irritation.

“That’s the third bird you’ve missed today,”

Pinepaw bit her lip. Maybe I’m just not meant for hunting. Pinepaw grumbled to herself. She could hear Cranestar’s voice- just not ready yet. She took a few angry lungfuls of air and then calmed herself.

“Okay, I’ll try again,” she flexed her claws with irritation and got to her paws. Ears pricked, she waited for her mentor to speak.

Campiontail was stood calmly, still, with her tail in the air, a slight tilt to her head. The wound on her leg was healing slowly, Pinepaw could see it, red and raging against her dark fur.

“Not today, we’ll go home and rest,” she mewed eventually.

“But I haven’t caught anything,” she protested.

Campiontail didn’t say anything, just turned and began walking up slope. Pinepaw had no choice but to follow her through the sunlit forest, grousing.

Campiontail was giving her sideways glances Pinepaw suddenly felt a sharp prick of frustration. Can no one in this Clan talk? She flexed her claws angrily, and Campiontail spoke,

“I know you’ve been off the past few days,”

Pinepaw grunted an acknowledgment, climbing over the stream, both eyes fixed on her mentor’s back.

“Maybe it’s because you’ve been looking after the elders for the last few days,” she began, awkwardly, “or maybe you’re just- distracted, but you need to sharpen up.”

Pinepaw didn’t speak. Distracted. Yeah, she was. Her mind kept replaying the gorge- lightning and crashing waves, Tallsun balanced on the top of the bough, claws flashing, terror striking through her- she promised to be a good warrior, how could she when all she felt was fear?

“You’re my first apprentice, Cranestar trusted me to teach you, my whole future as a warrior rests on you being able to pass a simple hunting assessment, and I don’t want you letting me down! ” she snapped, and Pinepaw could see her eyes flashing with annoyance.

She didn’t say anything. What could she say anyway? Her not being able to hunt wasn’t Campiontail’s fault, but how could she explain it? The need to catch something, but being absolutely unable to think straight when hunting? The feeling of cold snow and hungry- stabbing pains deep in her stomach- every night and every hunt, and the grief that strangled her every minute of every waking hour?

“What are you going to tell Cranestar?” Pinepaw mewed eventually, as they broke through the treeline and onto the path leading to camp. Stones clattered downhill as Campiontail led the way. Campiontail was silent for a heartbeat, halted on the track and motioned with her tail motioning for Pinepaw to wait.

She stopped besides a large boulder and bent her head down, scuffed at the earh with her paws. After a few heartbeats of digging, she revealed it; two plump woodpigeons. Indignation struck Pinepaw and she looked away, a bitter taste in her mouth.

She knew I wouldn’t be able to catch anything.

Pinepaw scuffed a paw into the stone and looked away as Campiontail padded back to the trail, tail twitching.

She paused just before she caught up- what would she say? She shook off her nerves, she’d just pretend Campiontail hadn’t told her.

Does she know? Pinepaw wondered, Cranestar’s words coming back to her, that I’m not ready?

“I know you’re upset,” Campiontail began, her soft voice muffled by the pigeons. Stones splashed into the stream as she sprang over it to cross, and waited for Pinepaw.

She landed easily besides her mentor and glanced up, wincing at how warm her eyes were.

“But don’t let it stop you from being a good warrior,” she gave another pause, full of doubt, “just don’t think about it, alright?”

Pinepaw huffed and dropped back a few paces. She didn’t want to talk.

They continued in silence, and Pinepaw watched the raw sunlight dance across the stream. The rippled surface sparkled with sunbeams. The mountain water was clear, crisp, she could see the sandstone beneath. Where did that water come from, she wondered. Had any Clan cat gone to trace it back to its pristine source?

Maybe I could take Dandelionpaw and Bay\- she shook the thought off. She could go alone, really. Maybe when she was a warrior.

Halfway up the trail, Pinepaw felt her fur lift. She glanced up, and there they were again. Silverbirds, three of them, flashing between the clouds, so brief that she wondered if she’d imagined it.

Suddenly, a bang. Campiontail yelped, stumbling over a rock as she jumped, slipped, and fell.

“Campiontail!” Pinepaw raced forward. Her mentor gave a low groan as Pinepaw dashed to her side and helped her up. She was panting, eyes lolling in the back of her head, glazed with pain.

“You okay?” Pinepaw fretted. Her foreleg was dangling awkwardly, and Campiontail was resting her bodyweight against Pinepaw.

“Yeah-“ she sucked in a breath between clenched teeth, “what was that?”

Pinepaw didn’t answer; she didn’t know. Campiontail struggled to stand, rested her weight against Pinepaw’s flank and tottered forward. Pain glistened in her eyes.

“Let’s get back,” she rasped, struggling over the stones.

Pinepaw had grit her teeth and tighten every muscle to bear Campiontail’s weight, but she didn’t complain. Slowly, they made their way back up to camp.

By the time they got back to camp, Pinepaw was aching with exhaustion. Campiontail vanished into Sedgenose’s den without another word, leaving Pinepaw in the clearing. She left her catch on the fresh-kill pile and slunk off to the brambles.

It was cooler in the shade, and she found a cozy spot between the brambles to groom her pelt. Camp was quiet; warriors were basking in the sunlight and quietly talking amongst themselves. Chestnutspike was lounging in a patch of shadow, Flaxstripe sprawled with his head on his paws nearby. The kits played outside the nursery, splashing in the shallows. Chickpaw was inside the apprentice’s den, snarling at a piece of stuck moss as she cleaned.

A dark face appeared at the medicine den, and Baypaw trotted from the rocks, heading toward her. Pinepaw grit her teeth. Seeing the trembling brown apprentice only reminded her of her own fear- sent a wave of disgust through her. Warrior’s don’t get scared! 

She narrowed her eyes, watching the surprise light his green eyes. Pinepaw looked away pointedly and fluffed her tail out. She could see him stammer to a stop in the corner of her eyes.

“Baypaw!” Goatfur sprang down from the rocks, heavy pelt bristling. Pinepaw pricked one ear and watched.

“I’ve been looking for you,” he mewed evenly.

“I was helping Sedgenose-“ Baypaw began as his mentor shadowed him, tail swinging between his legs.

“I told you yesterday, you need to concentrate on your battle training,”

Baypaw was silent.

“Listen to your mentor Baypaw, you’re training to be a warrior,” Kiteheart mewed slowly from where she was sprawled by the pool. Baypaw ducked his head, and hurried after Goatfur.

Pinepaw got back to her pelt. Wasn’t her business.

He’s scared of training. She felt a strange twinge of sympathy, and forced it away. The battle had been scary, but she’d still managed to fight, why did he get to chicken out?

Pinepaw was interrupted as a shadow crossed over her, and she looked up from grooming her belly to see Dandelionpaw.

“Why aren’t you talking to Baypaw?” Dandelionpaw asked as she stared, eyes curious.

“Huh?” Pinepaw fur prickled with suspicion. Had she seen?

“Well?”

Pinepaw eyed her sister.

“He’s a coward,” I don’t want his cowardice rubbing off on me. 

“That’s a bit unfair,”

It is, you feel the same. Pinepaw trampled down the quiet voice of agreement and bared her teeth.

“He hid during the battle,” she hissed.

Dandelionpaw blinked. Her eyes were full of confusion; like she didn’t understand it.

“You wanna be friends with that traitor? He hid, while we fought,” and Tallsun died. 

“You can’t seriously be mad at him,” Dandelionpaw sniffed.

Pinepaw blinked.

“Hm, fine,” she reached forward to swipe her ears with a lick but Dandelionpaw ducked away.

“He was just scared, it’s his first battle,”

“Warriors shouldn’t be scared,” Pinepaw answered, repeating it to herself, “he hid,” she repeated. She shuffled her paws as Dandelionpaw stared at her.

“He’s young,”

“We’re supposed to help each other become good warriors, I’m only trying to help him not be such a coward, I thought he was braver than that,” she sniffed

“I want you to be a good warrior, but you don’t hear me telling you what to do,” Dandelionpaw whisked her tail through the air in a sharp arc and rolled her eyes,

“and he only does that stuff to impress you, you know that,”

Pinepaw twitched her ears, uncomfortable. She switched the topic to one she knew.

“We’re going to be warriors soon,” she mewed. Dandelionpaw returned to staring at her levelly.

“Yeah, if we pass our assessments,”

“Then we can fight WoodClan together, get revenge for Tallsun,”

Dandelionpaw halted, and looked up at Pinepaw, green eyes questioning.

“That’s all you think about isn’t it?” Dandelionpaw muttered.

“Huh?”

“Revenge, fighting,” Her tail flicked through the air a couple times and she gave a shrug of her shoulders.

“That’s-“ Pinepaw struggled to understand. Did she doubt it? “That’s what we do, that’s what being a warrior is. Don’t you want to be a good warrior?”

“Isn’t there anything, like, more to being a warrior?” She asked with another twitch if her shoulders.

Pinepaw couldn’t answer. She felt like Dandelionpaw was so close to saying something, but lingering back from it. She could sense the frustration, tension that made her fur crackle.

Does she know what I think? 

“What?” Pinepaw stared.

“Nothing,” her tail flicked through the air, and the curiosity vanished from her face, “I’m gonna go clean the nursery, see you later,”

Worry pierced Pinepaw’s heart. Being a good warrior was all that mattered to her; did Dandelionpaw not care? Did she not want to make Tallsun, CreekClan proud?

Don’t act like you don’t think it to. Pinepaw dug her claws into the ground. She’d come around, surely.

First Baypaw, now Dandelionpaw. Was everyone trying to stop her being a good warrior? She lashed her tail in frustration.

Can’t pass a hunting assessment, can’t keep her thoughts loyal to CreekClan.

Pinepaw snapped out of it with a growl. She was angry. She was hungry. The fresh kill pile was well stocked.

She nosed at the catches. The two pigeons Campiontail had caught were gone, leaving a blackbird, a magpie, a few mice, and what Pinepaw thought was a shrew.

I can’t take a whole bird to myself, she thought, pawing through the prey. A pang of hunger made her think again.

She glanced over to the den, where a grey tail poked from the shadows. Chickpaw might be hungry, we can share.

The blackbird was making her mouth water. Pinepaw crossed campy swiftly, feeling eyes on her back. If Dandelionpaw wanted to be sore, she could. Pinepaw would just find new friends in the Clan, ones who would help her be a good warrior. She was just fine with that.


	9. Chapter 8

Rain glittered on grass and Pinepaw trudged behind Teaselstalk with her head down. The forest was dark, dawn had barely broke, and silent.

Her fur prickled as the floor levelled and the patrol wove through the undergrowth towards the border.

Dandelionpaw was pressed close to her, shivering with nerves.

“Come on, heads down,” Teaselstalk slowed the patrol down with a wave of his tail. Leaf mulch squelched underpaw. Pinepaw gagged. She hated mud.

“You alright?”

“Yeah,” Pinepaw snapped back. She wanted to be in her nest, not trudging through the cold, wet forest. Campiontail was stuck in the medicine den with her shoulder festering in the damp air, and her absence was obvious. Pinepaw felt no warmth from Flaxstripe and Teaselstalk, who crossed the forest with ruthless efficiency and judged Pinepaw with cold eyes.

The patrol walked on. The forest closed in, trunks and ferns sprouting every whisker-length. It was a path Pinepaw knew well, but it was unrecognisable. The earth was churned up, vines and ivy crushed, bracken trampled, flattened by the battle. Old blood pooled in deep trenches of mud, tufts of fur was trapped on thorns. There was an ever present reek of something sour.

Pinepaw’s stomach turned. Her body tensed as they continued on, pushing through the ruined plantlife to the border. It loomed like a mountain. Pinepaw lingered behind, paws trembling, as Flaxstripe began nosing at a treestump. He raised his tail, pricked his ears, and stared into the darkness.

_WoodClan_. Pinepaw had sensed them too.

“Prey stealers,” Flaxstripe hissed. Across the border, the ferns shook and a dark tabby face appeared.

“This was our forest first,” the dark tabby spat, bristling as he stepped towards Flaxstripe.

“Go back to Twolegplace,” he snarled, “I heard WoodClan really likes hanging around kittypets,”

The dark tabby froze, her face flashing with- anger? Shock? Pinepaw couldn’t tell. Her teeth were bared, sharp, wet fangs glistening. All she saw was hatred.

“Don’t fall for it Curledtail,” a grey and white molly mewed softly. Her fur was puffy and tightly coiled like sheep wool, “Don’t even think about crossing,” Curledtail snapped.

“Wouldn’t dare,” Teaselstalk mewed angrily, “don’t want to catch greencough from you infected fox-hearts,”

Pinepaw bared her teeth and flanked Teaselstalk. She could feel the muscles rippling under his short pelt. They stared. Pinepaw held her breath. Then, Curledtail stepped back. She hissed, sharp and cutting, and vanished.

Pinepaw exhaled. Flaxstripe rounded them up with a wave of his tail.

“Come on, let’s get back,” he mewed, voice level. He didn’t take his eye off the border, and neither did Pinepaw. Her heart was pounding in her ears, would they ambush them? She slid her claws out.

“Great StarClan they’re too arrogant for their own good, always trying to start a fight,” Flaxstripe stormed ahead with his tail over his back. The leaves squelched under his paws.

_You started it,_ Pinepaw chewed on her lip nervously but shook the thought away. _They shouldn’t have been so close to the border_. Then another thought, _but neither should we_. Her head hurt just thinking about it. She flexed her claws.

She glanced back at Dandelionpaw.

“Catch up slowpaws,” she joked. Dandelionpaw huffed and trotted forward. Her paws were muddy.

“WoodClan,” Pinepaw huffed. She eyed Dandelionpaw carefully, studying her for a reply.

“He shouldn’t have provoked them,” she shook her head.

“They shouldn’t be so close to the border if they don’t want to be provoked,” she answered.

“It was a pointless show of claws,” Dandelionpaw scoffed, “a fight for a fight’s sake,”

“You shouldn’t think like that,”

“Neither should you,”

Stunned, Pinepaw halted for a second as Dandelionpaw padded past her to rush to Teaselstalk’s side.

“When’s my next assessment?” Pinepaw filtered out the conversation as she trudged up the path. Didn’t she want to talk? Pinepaw grit her teeth.

Dandelionpaw was right- Pinepaw acknowledged with a grimace. They had started the fight.

_But that’s what we do._

She grit her teeth hard enough to taste blood. She didn’t like this- her thoughts racing after one another like wasps.

_I’m going to be a CreekClan warrior soon_ , she muttered to herself as she climbed the path to the stream. _I’m going to fight WoodClan, I’m going to get revenge for Tallsun_. She kept repeating this, over and over, trying to push down the thought that kept worming its way to the surface; thrashing beneath the surface.

If thoughts could be cats, she wanted this one to feel her claws against its throat. She kept moving, following the patrol back through the forest and towards the stream. Flaxstripe had stopped on a flat stone to wash his paws, and Dandelionpaw was talking to Teaselstalk a few fox-lengths off.

Pinepaw bent her head to take a few laps of water, pausing to catch her reflection as she sipped from the icy stream. Two bright yellow eyes. Two twitching ears. A black and white face, one cheek smeared with ruddy tortoiseshell fur. Same colour as Tallsun.

She knew that being a warrior meant fighting WoodClan, but why did it suddenly fill her with fear?

She paused, letting her whirling thoughts settle, until one rose up between the flashing memories of teeth and claws.

_You kill a WoodClan cat, his kin kill a CreekClan cat, you get revenge, they get revenge. It doesn’t end. You fight until you die._

Pinepaw took a breath. Her heart was racing in her chest. She didn’t like this, this thinking. It felt wrong, _disloyal_. She was supposed to be a good warrior, make Tallsun proud. How could she when she doubted CreekClan’s actions?

She looked down and saw the face in the water- the narrow, thin slope of her face, spiked fur, nicked ears.

There was a hungry glint in her eyes. Mean. She brushed the water from her whiskers and stared down at herself.

Squared her shoulders, narrowed her eyes until she felt satisfied.

_It’s what we do. It’s the only way._

////

Dawn came slowly, and Pinepaw was sulking outside the apprentice’s den, waiting. She didn’t know what she was waiting for.

She glanced around. Campiontail was nurisng her wounds under the yew tree, Ouzelheart flitting nervously over her with a mouthful of wet moss.

Pinepaw flexed her claws. She’d be off training then. Dandelionpaw and Chickpaw had gone hunting, Orchidpaw and Baypaw were out as well. She was alone.

She didn’t know what to do with herself. Join a patrol? Clean the dens? If she stayed in camp her thoughts would drive her insane.

Before she could move, Sedgenose was padding over to her.

“If Campiontail’s not taking you anywhere, why don’t you come help me find herbs?”

Her voice was honeyed with sympathy. Pinepaw’s pelt prickled but she felt someone watching her, Campiontail’s gaze intense on her back.

“Fine,” Sedgenose gave a chirrup of delight and eagerly padded towards the bramble tunnel.

“It’s been a long time since I last dragged you around the forest for herbs,” Sedgenose

Pinepaw shrugged. She didn’t feel like conversing. Her feet felt heavy, and her body groaned with effort as she followed Sedgenose.

Outside of camp, the wind howled noisily across the cliffs, battering the stout larches and pines. Pinepaw shivered. The wind was stronger than she remembered. It was surprisingly cold, the sun was hidden behind huge smoky clouds.

Sedgenose led her around the camp, heading up the slope and towards the sparse forest that clustered around the cliffs.

Pinepaw scrambled over the yew tree’s roots and up the rocks, hurrying to catch up with the medicine cat. She felt slow.

“There’s Sandkit and Webkit,” Sedgenose mewed as Pinepaw joined her at the top of the rock. She peered down into camp. The kits were rolling around on a flat stone outside the nursery; batting at eachother with stubby paws, Webkit flat on his back as Sandkit harassed him with clumsy swipes.

“I bet they call that training,” Pinepaw snorted. A pang of sadness struck her; they were too young to know what lay ahead of them in their apprenticeship. She shook the thought off.

“They’re only young,” Sedgenose chided, and she continued up the slope.

The stream bubbled besides them, rolling down the valley until it crashed over the rocks and into camp. Pinepaw hurried over the rocks and stones to catch up; she didn’t want to be left alone in the dark forest.

She felt the soft earth turn to harder stone and the breeze tug her pelt; breaking out of the tree line, she smelt the fresh scents of grass and stone. From high up on the rocky sides, the land below was a green haze. A few dark shapes caught her eye, down by the training hollow. The patrol snaked like ants across a tree branch, tiny black specks. She turned away, hearing Sedgenose’s pawsteps grow distant, and sprinted after her.

Pinepaw gasped as the wind swept across the cliffs and tugged at her fur with surprising strength. Up here, pale rock glinted under the wide sky, and Pinepaw could see all the way across the valley. She paused to stare. The land looked so unfamiliar from where she stood. Far below her was the cliffs, level with the forest canopy, and below that, the stream and lush woodland, the marshes, the river, and then, all the way off in the distance, hidden by mist, Twolegplace.

She dug her claws into the rock, it was hard, not soft like the sandstone cliffs edging the forest. There were no scents, the constant wind swept everything away with unrelenting fury, and the few plants here were stunted.

An old urge to explore tugged deep inside her as Sedgenose led her across the flat rock, towards a crop of toothy stone that jutted towards the sky.

_If Sedgenose wasn’t here, I’d go see what was over there_ , she thought, gazing at the horizon. with Baypaw and Dandelionpaw, she added. Sadness swept her. They’ll get over it, they have to.

“We’re looking for chamomile!” Sedgenose called as she picked her way across the stoney ground with ease. Pinepaw followed, hissing as stones and grit got caught under her claws and ripped her paw pads. She felt slow, uncoordinated. Sedgenose disappeared over a grey slab of rock and she lumbered over to catch up.

Landing besides Sedgenose, she shook out her pelt and took a minute to slow her breathing. Behind the outcrop they were sheltered from the wind and Pinepaw could see countless sprigs of green plants, hundreds of different shades and shapes, springing from the cracks in the jagged stone. It looked as if a great bird had dropped a hundred boulders onto the ground and they had been piled in a nest.

Pinepaw sniffed at a leafy green plant sprouting from the ground. She nearly bumped into the rock next to her.

“This?” The leaf rippled under her breath. Her whiskers twitched as dust floated up.

“No, it’s got white flowers,” the medicine cats voice echoed across the rock and she dived into a gap between two round boulders. “It looks like daisies,” she called. Pinepaw stared at the gap were she had gone. Was there a maze of tunnels between the rocks? Was there any prey? Her paws carried her to the entrance and she peered into the darkness.

Sedgenose reappeared high above her head, she sprang up from a crack with ease, her jaws full of strange flaky leaves while Pinepaw clambered up awkwardly to join her. Her brown fur glistened in the sunlight, patches of it bleached by moons of intense sun.

They searched the rocks for chamomile while Sedgenose tucked the moss she’d found away.

“This it?” Pinepaw pointed at a sprout of daisy-like growth, clustered over the dry ground in ragged clumps.

“Yes, get as much as you can please,” Sedgenose mewed as she laid out the moss to dry. The chamomile tasted dry, old, and Pinepaw winced at the strange taste as she nipped the tall stems and gathered them in a pile.

“Anything else?” Pinepaw picked a stray stalk from inbetween her teeth and waited for her reply. She liked it up on the cliffs, right at the top; the wind in her fur, clouds above her.

Beautiful skies, beautiful forest; the canopy rippled like water in the breeze, leaves flashing white as they swayed. The river was winding its way through the far off field, the horizon fading to a gleaming white under the sun. _Home_ , Pinepaw thought with a sudden warmth.

She realised Sedgenose hadn’t replied. Her heart sprang into her mouth.

“Sedgenose?” Pinepaw twisted her head around. The clifftop was empty.

“Sedgenose?” She called again.

Nothing. She got to her paws and began walking, leaping over the rocks to scan the cliff. Where had she gone? She frantically scanned around, fur lifting with fright as she realised she couldn’t spot her dark brown pelt anywhere.

A pair of ears cut the skyline behind over a set of boulders and Pinepaw picked up speed.

“Sedgenose!” Pinepaw called again as she sprang over the rock.

The medicine cat’s head jerked up, her mouth full of leafy stalks.

“Yarrow,” she mumbled through the mouthful.

“Oh,” Pinepaw sighed with relief. She was shaking.

_WoodClan can’t get you up here._

She nodded, her mouth dry.

“Come on,” Sedgenose touched her tail to Pinepaw’s shoulder as she passed, “let’s go-“

Pinepaw blinked, the sun had appeared from behind a cloud; the light stabbed her eyes with a sudden ferocity. She heard Sedgenose gasp, and stiffen with fear.

“Sedgenose?” She leapt up the rocks to the medicine cat. Was it WoodClan? ”what’s wrong?”

Sedgenose was crouched, staring up at the sky. The sun was shining down onto her, bright, hot, intense. The medicine cat’s fur bristled, spiked with fear, her eyes bulged. Claws scraped the rock, a scratching sound that made Pinepaw’s teeth crackle.

Pinepaw felt gripped by something, like claws were squeezing around her. She swore she could hear someone talking- no, someone shrieking. Then, a cloud swept across the sun, and the air crackled with the promise of rain. Sedgenose was breathing fast, her tail bushed up and tucked between her hind legs.

“We must get back to camp!” She hissed, ears pinned to the back of her head, she shook with terror.

Pinepaw stared at her, fear welling inside; what had just happened? She could still hear the garbled echoes of screams inside her head.

“What happened?” She asked, willing her voice not to shake,

“I just had a message from StarClan,” the medicine cat breathed, “a Great Light is coming, and will destroy us all,”


	10. Chapter 9

Pinepaw pelted back to camp as fast as she can. Sedgenose hared ahead of her, StarClan’s dreadful message granting her speed and strength as she leapt from rock to rock, root to root, and then across the pine forest to camp.

Breathless, Pinepaw skidded into the clearing besides Sedgenose, aware of the Clan’s worry as warriors gathered around them. The sun was bright and hot above camp.

“Sedgenose!” Kiteheart was hurrying from the pool to stand in front of her, “what is it?”

“A message from StarClan!” The medicine cat’s mew was clear, she did not heave for breath like Pinepaw did, and her eyes glittered with worry.

Pinepaw heard a few warriors gasp, and the Clan hurried to circle her; their faces were hard with worry, and pelts rippled as Sedgenose spoke,

“They showed me the sun, growing into a ball of fire, and a voice came to me and said, A Great Light will come to the valley and destroy everything it touches,”

Wails rose from the Clan,

“What is the Great Light?” Pinepaw saw Ouzelheart, crouched in terror. Goatfur was besides her, tail swishing, ears pinned back.

“How do we stop it?” Flaxstripe bared his claws.

“What does Starclan mean?” Goatfur gave an irrritated flick of his tail, his eyes narrow and gleaming with concern.

Fear scent wreathed around the warriors.

“There’s no need to panic- StarClan will give us guidance,” Kiteheart mewed above the chatter. From where Pinepaw was standng, she could see cold worry in her eyes, and she felt the same sinking dread creep up on her.

“Isn’t it obvious, Kiteheart?” Shellspine got to her paws and wove her way through the cats to the front of the crowd, raising her chin as she shouldered her way to the front of the crowd, “Sedgenose saw a sun, a sun that would threaten us, surely, that must be Sunstar?”

“Of course you would think that,” Chestnutspike snapped. Pinepaw turned to him, struck with shock.

“What else could it be?” She asked.

“WoodClan have always troubled us!” Slightcloud shouted from the other side of the crowd, “StarClan is giving us the approval to finally defeat them,”

“It’s not as simple as that-“

“Stop with your cowardice Chestnutspike, and face the fact that _WoodClan_ are our enemies,”

“StarClan gave us a sign,” he snapped, “But we don’t know it definitely is WoodClan,”

“Well what else is it?” Flaxstripe snapped.

“Sedgenose?” Chestnutspike glanced at the medicine cat, fighting to keep his fur level.

“I wish I could be certain,” she mewed, voice shaking, “I-“ she closed her mouth and shook her head. Pinepaw could see her eyes, fraught with worry.

“StarClan has spoken of a danger to come,” Pinepaw glanced up suddenly at Cranestar, who had ghosted over like mist and now stood at the top of the rocks with the sunlight piercing her fur.

“But we just fought WoodClan,” Whitespeckle mewed with uncertainty. Pinepaw whipped her head around to see the pale molly shuffle her paws and curl her tail over her kits protectively. _Her kits aren’t going to be fighting!_

“And we should fight them again,” Pinepaw mewed, her voice hard. She saw Campiontail’s ears twitch with surprise. There was silence as Cranestar fixed her gaze on Pinepaw. She lifted her chin, conviction shining in her eyes. _We have to fight WoodClan!_

“I can organise more battle training,” Kiteheart raised her voice to be heard over the racket, “Starting tomorrow, all apprentices and a few warriors,”

“I’ll lead if you want Kiteheart,” Slightcloud flexed his shoulders and eyed the deputy. A fresh wound glistened with poultice on his flank, raw and red.

“We mustn’t forget to mark the border, and hunt,” Ouzelheart mewed in a small voice. Her black fur was spiked with suspicion, as if WoodClan warriors lurked in the cracks in the rock.

“Of course not,” Cranestar chipped in as she stepped to the centre of the crowd, raising her tail for silence.

Kiteheart dipped her head and backed away, letting Cranestar take her place. Pinepaw could only stare. She could see the doubt flickering in Cranestar’s eyes- however brief- as she studied the line of bristling warriors.

_Is our own leader against fighting WoodClan?_

She grit her teeth. How could she have any doubt? How could any of them? StarClan had just shown them the way.

“Sedgenose, you will go to the Moon Falls tonight, see if our ancestors have any further signs for us,” Cranestar mewed.

There was an unsatisified huff from Shellspine, and Pinepaw could feel the air, still taught with tension.

Cranestar didn’t flinch, but her eyes darted across the crowd of cats, silently waiting for her to speak.

She has to decide if we are going to attack WoodClan! Pinepaw flexed her claws and felt them prick the earth.

As if she was struck by lightning, Cranestar jolted and whirled around, leaping back onto the rocks with a flick of her tail.

“If we are to fight WoodClan, we need more warriors,” She called, her voice clear and strong.

Pinepaw glanced up. New warrior. Her.

She hurriedly looked for Dandelionpaw. She was padding forward, fur flat, tail low. She didn’t meet Pinepaw’s eyes.

“Our warrior ceremony,” she whispered. Dandelionpaw nodded back. Her eyes seemed dull, and she looked away. Pinepaw’s enthusiasm was crushed.

“We can finally be warriors, defeat WoodClan,” she hissed, hoping she would hear.

_Why can’t you be cheerful about it?_ She bit her lip and frowned, then shook it off.

“Today, CreekClan will have two new warriors to help us stand against WoodClan,” Cranestar announced, “Campiontail, Teaselstalk, are you satisfied your apprentices have learned the skills of a warrior?”

Pinepaw snuck a look to the side to find Campiontail- and was crushed to see the shock in her eyes. _She lied about my assessment_. Pinepaw held her breath until Campiontail nodded.

“She has,”

“So has Dandelionpaw,” Teaselstalk answered with his chin high.

Cranestar dipped her head approvingly and leapt down the rocks, landing just in front of the apprentices.

“I, Cranestar, leader of CreekClan, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down on these apprentices. They have trained hard to understand the ways of your noble code and I commend them to you as warriors in their turn,”

Dandelionpaw trembled as Cranestar fixed her grey gaze on her,

“Dandelionpaw, Pinepaw do you promise to uphold the warrior code and to protect and defend your Clan, even at the cost of your life?”

“I do,”

Pinepaw raised her head, barely daring to breath as Cranestar studied her with gleaming eyes,

“I do,” her heart’s fierce pounding echoed in her chest. She squeezed her claws into the ground. _I hope Tallsun can see us from StarClan._

“Then by the powers of StarClan, I give you your warrior names, Dandelionpaw, from this moment on you will be known as Dandelionfall, StarClan honours your compassion and thoughtfulness, and we welcome you as a full warrior of CreekClan,”

Pinepaw blinked warmly at Dandelionfall, waiting for her to look at her. She didn’t, only bowed her head to Cranestar. Despite the sting, her heart was warm with pride.

Cranestar’s grey eyes stared into Pinepaw as she swung her head around to stare at her, and she raised her head, as if challenged by her leader.

“Pinepaw, from this moment on you will be known as Pinefrost, StarClan honours your spirit and independence, and we welcome you as a full warrior of CreekClan,”

“Pinefrost! Dandelionfall! Pinefrost! Dandelionfall!” The Clan chanted, voices suddenly warm and cheerful. Pinefrost, glowing with pride, closed her eyes and basked in her Clanmate’s celebrations. She could hear Campiontail’s voice, loudest of all.

When she opened her eyes, she gazed longingly at the faint stars. They twinkled and sparkled in a tight cluster above camp, as if they were huddled together, leaning over and gazing down into the camp. She could almost picture Tallsun.

Pinefrost took a steady breath and opened her eyes. She saw Cranestar lightly walking towards them.

“Thank you,” Dandelionfall mewed breathlessly,

“Good warriors deserve good names, noble names,” Cranestar croaked, looking older than ever as she touched her cold nose to Pinefrost’s forehead, “serve your clan well,”

Pinefrost held back a snort. Noble names? What an odd saying. She turned to make a joke about it, but Dandelionfall had walked off to her mentor.

“Congratulations,” Ouzelheart mewed quietly as she approached. 

Pinefrost gave a nod, unable to speak, and glanced over at Campiontail.

“You’re quiet for once,” Campiontail purred, “hopefully your vigil won’t feel too long,”

Pinefrost flicked her ears, remembering to stay quiet. Her mentor stared at her, eyes warm, before she turned around and headed for the warriors den. She halted, tossed her head over her shoulder and gave Pinefrost a look of genuine warmth.

“Tallsun would be proud,” she mewed, before turning back and slipping into the den.

_I hope so_. Pinefrost kneaded the ground with her paws before getting up and taking her position by the camp exit. She curled her tail around her paws and fluffed up her fur as a chill set in. She glanced to her side. Dandelionfall was still as a stone, her fluffed up and her eyes narrowed in thought. Pinefrost shuffled her paws and tried to get comfortable. She was unsure of what to do. _Am I really supposed to contemplate being a warrior?_ She looked around the dark camp. The wind whistled through the pines and stars sparkled in the sky.

Someone was whispering. She could hear it, just on the edge of her hearing. The wind died down, and she could hear voices. Her blood ran cold- was WoodClan creeping up on them?

Pinefrost pricked her ears.

“You’re stalling Cranestar,” Kiteheart’s deep mew was barely audible “we need to show them the forest is ours, we won’t survive leafbare without it, we have kits to feed, they don’t,”

There was a long pause, the wind kicked up again and rattled the yew, and then Cranestar’s croaky mew,

“We have survived many leafbares without it,” Pinefrost could picture the old molly shaking her head, “the Clan is still weak from being attacked-“

“We lost kits last leafbare, have you forgotten?” Kiteheart spat. Pinefrost winced; the leafbare she had been born in was brutal. She had been lucky to survive.

“Didn’t you hear StarClan’s message?” Kiteheart hissed again. There was a thump, her tail slamming the ground in frustration.

“I did,” there was a sigh, “I cannot permit an attack now-“

“And ignore the signs from your warrior ancestors?”

Another pause.

“I won’t let Tallsun’s sacrifice go to waste,” Kiteheart growled. Pinefrost sat up, a sudden wave of grief rushing over her. “We should strike now, while WoodClan still nurse their wounds,”

Silence. Then Kiteheart spoke again.

“The dawn patrol reported their warriors were still injured,”

“They also reported the WoodClan warriors lacked the energy to spit insults at you,” Cranestar retorted wearily, “how can they fight?”

Another thud. Kiteheart’s tail swept the ground.

“The Clan does not want a battle, not another one so soon. I won’t make my warriors fight again, not now,”

“Are you calling us cowards? The Clan wants to fight,”

“I have ears that work just as well as yours Kiteheart, no one speaks of revenge like you and your posse do,”

“We are not a _posse_ , Cranestar, make no mistake, I do not wish to challenge your leadership but if you keep avoiding-“

“I know that if I don’t take the Clan to war,” Cranestar mewed softly, “you will,”

“You have to do what you think is best for the Clan,” Kiteheart replied evenly.

Pinefrost glanced at her sister, searching Dandelionfall’s face for any sign that she’d heard; but her eyes were focused on the forest, her ears swivelled towards the bramble tunnel.

“Sedgenose will go to the Moon Falls tomorrow,” Cranestar’s weary voice came again.

"How can you ignore what I say?”

"StarClan has always guided us,"

"StarClan will tell you what I, and the other warriors tell you. You’re wasting time Cranestar-“

“I will send a patrol of warriors tomorrow night to check the border,” Cranestar mewed, a finality to her voice.

“Check for what?” Kiteheart pushed.

“For WoodClan,” Pinefrost could hear her silky tail sweep the gravel inside her den.

Silence, then footsteps crunched behind Pinefrost. She pricked her ears. Kiteheart’s paws ghosted over the water, and she heard a light thump as the deputy leapt over the pool. There was a sudden silence- Kiteheart had stopped moving. Pinefrost could feel the back of her neck prickling, her fur raising as she thought she felt eyes burning into her back. Then the brambles rustled, and Kiteheart slipped into the warriors den, and the night grew silent again.


	11. Chapter 10

Dawn came slowly. The dark sky faded to a violet blue, and the stars vanished, one by one, slowly extinguishing as the morning wore on. Pinefrost was nearly asleep on her paws, mouth dry and stuffy, limbs heavy and stiff. Puffy clouds began to dot to the sky, and a pale golden light flooded the forest. The camp glistened under dew. Blinking her eyes, Pinefrost stretched and gave a massive yawn as she padded from the warriors den.

Something flashed overhead, and she squinted to see.

“Look,” Pinefrost pointed her muzzle upwards, to where the clouds parted to reveal a patch of apricot sky and a dark speck shot between the clouds, “another silverbird,” she glanced over at Dandelionfall, studying her face for a reply.

It was Ouzelheart who answered.

“What’s a silverbird?”

“One of those weird shiny things in the sky,” Pinefrost stifled another yawn. The sunlight felt warm on her pelt, made her drowsy. Suddenly tired, she got up and headed for the warriors den- her new den- pride made her heart warm.

“Take my nest if you want,” Slightcloud mewed as he slipped out the den, gesturing with his skinny tail to a patch of dark moss and feathers. Pinefrost gave a dip of her head as he left, and she stepped into the cool rocky cavern.

She could hear water trickling above, felt the cool moisture against her pelt; it sent a shiver down her spine. Slightcloud’s nest was at the back, next to Ouzelheart’s- a tiny dip of bare earth and dry grass- and Shellspine’s- the same tightly woven mat of moss that Slightcloud has.

Pinefrost raised her head as a shadow flitted over the den- Dandelionfall. She turned her head

If she want to be grouchy, let her, she thought, she’s not going to stop me feeling proud- I’m finally a warrior.

She reached out a paw and patted down on Ouzelheart’s nest.

“You can sleep here, she won’t mind,”

“Thanks,” Dandelionfall shuffled over, barely stepping over the scattering of nests around the den. Pinefrost settled down onto her paws, trying to get comfortable.

“Sleep well,” she whispered to the still form just out of reach besides her.

////

The sun was streaming down on camp when Pinefrost returned from the border patrol. It was hot, the kind of heat that made her head hurt. The air was stuffy, and she was begging for a breeze.

“All quiet?” Kiteheart mewed from her spot on the rocks- her spot for definite, Pinefrost had never seen her in any other position, she was always sprawled on that one flat rock where the pool trickled down into the stream.

“Not a whisker, not a hair,” Slightcloud replied, a disappointed growl following his words. Chickpaw was weaving her way through the patrol members to the front, trying to stand as tall as them.

Pinefrost nosed at the freshkill pile while Slightcloud reported back to Kiteheart until she found a small, fresh mouse, and joined her patrol in the shade. She was starving, and began hungrily tearing at the mouse. It’s warm blood was singing with flavour, and Pinefrost wolfed it down in a few quick bites. Slightcloud was besides her, half asleep with his head on his small paws. She could see a fresh wound along his side, smeared with a sour-smelling poultice.

Ouzelheart was lingering over her, her ears nervously twitching; Pinefrost could see the tense energy running through her pelt, it made her fur creep, made her feel like something was lurking over her shoulder.

“Fighting with your littermate?” She mewed cautiously. Pinefrost looked up, expecting to see her eyes narrowed with suspicion, but only saw understanding in them. She gave a nod, and Ouzelheart sighed as she flopped down next to Pinefrost,

“I know the feeling,” she tucked her tail around herself. Even while settled on the ground, her ears were pricked, her body tight with alarm.

“The Clan’s my family,” Pinefrost replied, but the worlds felt hollow in her mouth. She didn't want to be fighting with her sister; they were _blood_ family.

She glanced up. She hadn’t spoken to her in three days. When they were younger, they would talk all the time.

 _She’s the only family I have now._ Pinefrost got to her paws, maybe a run through the forest would remind her of when they were younger, I hope she’s free for a hunting patrol.

She crossed camp swiftly, leaping the stream in a smooth bound, and sought out her sister. She could see her pelt between the brambles, black and yellow behind the tangle of dark green thorns.

Dandelionfall was sat besides Chestnutspike, heads bent close, voices hushed- conspiratory. Pinefrost stayed hidden behind the brambles, ears pricked.

“-all they think about!” She mewed hurriedly.

“I know, but there’s nothing we can say to change their minds yet,”

“I just- I just don’t think it’s right, you know? And no one else understands me,” her nostrils flared and her ears were pinned back to her head

“They’re just stubborn,” Chestnutspike mewed softly, “they’ll come around,”

“How?” Dandelionfall asked. He responded with a twitch of his shoulders,

“They will, trust me, we can’t fight forever,” he reached forward to give her a lick across the forehead, before getting up and padding away.

Pinefrost backed into the brambles, feeling the leaves rattle around her, as Chestnutspike trudged past her towards the stream. She waited a few moments, listening to her furious heartbeat, and then peeled away from the thorns, stepping out to confront Dandelionfall.

She was grooming her dark tortoiseshell pelt like nothing had happened.

“What was that about?” Pinefrost tipped her head as she approahed her sister. Dandelionfall’s eyes flashed with guilt as she looked up- the same look she had when she once took an extra sparrow, Pinefrost knew it too well.

“Oh- nothing,”

“Nothing?” Pinefrost felt a stab of betrayal- she doesn’t want to tell me, her sister. Then, a flash of anger. It was something about the battle! Pinefrost pushed down a growl, what would Cranestar say if she found out she didn’t want to fight WoodClan? What would Tallsun say?

“Sounded a lot like you don’t agree with what Kiteheart says,”

Dandelionfall wheeled around, facing her with her round ears pinned against her head.

“I don’t have to agree with it, Kiteheart’s not our leader, her word isn’t law,”

Pinefrost set her jaw. _She’s avoiding the point._

“You’re conspiring,” she accused sharply.

“Me? Conspiring?”

“Don’t repeat me, answer me,” Pinefrost spat, the fur along her spine rising. She stared back, her eyes narrowing. “You think all of this is pointless,”

“Well-“ Dandelionfall’s

“How could you?”

“Tallsun died for our Clan, and you don’t want to fight them back? How can you?”

“Tallsun died because that’s all we do! All we do is fight!”

“You’ve never fought! I was the one on the patrol, I watched our mother die! But you get to sit here and act like all of this is pointless, like it’s completely below you!”

“Revenge _is_ below me-"

"What?"

"You think revenge stops us fighting? You think it's worth it?"

Pinefrost could only stare at her, baffled.

“Because when you take revenge for Tallsun, they will take revenge for it to, and you will have to avenge that cat, and they will avenge them- and it never ends, does it? It continues until the ground is soaked with blood, til the gorge is filled with bodies. And you know that! And I’m sick of you acting like you don’t, and treating me like I’m some kind of clueless idiot or traitor for thinking it!”

“That’s what we _do_ ,” Pinefrost hissed. Dandelionfall wheeled on her with a snarl.

“Attacking WoodClan won’t bring any of them back you know!” Dandelionfall spat. Pinefrost wheeled aroung on her sister, who was now bristling with anger, “you’re just throwing yourself into a life of constant fighting, a life of misery-“

“I’m not trying to bring-“

“Nightstep? Tallsun? Sapkit?” Dandelionfall fluffed up her pelt and stared straight into Pinefrost, her eyes boiling with fury. As soon as she spoke though, Pinefrost saw the regret and horror flash cold across her features.

Pinefrost could only back away, cold seeping through her blood. She could see her reflection in Dandelionfall’s golden-green eyes.

“Why won’t you just talk to me?” She mewed finally, a desperate note to her voice.

“What?”

“About- whatever it is you’ve got going on,” her eyes were wide and pleading and full of pity, “We don’t talk anymore. We used to explore the forest, you used to talk about Twolegplace or the cliffs or, or- anything. Now all you care about is being a warrior, or fighting, or- or-“ she broke off with a sudden choking sob, “You used to be my friend, now there’s nothing left of you, you’re mean, Pinefrost, you’ve become cruel,”

Pinefrost stared, horror struck as her sister faced her, calmer now, her ears drooping, her tail curled around her back legs in fear. A sudden spark of rage made a growl rumble in her throat as she stared at her sister _. How could she?_

“I don’t need this! I don’t need you,” Pinefrost grit her teeth and lowered her chin, glaring at Dandelionfall. Without a word, Pinefrost stalked away.

////

Four days had passed, and Cranestar had not made another announcement. Those four days had passed in a blur, a slow drag of days blending into one another, the weather miserable, the hunting poor, and the chill of leafbare growin stringer every day.

Pinefrost padded upslope, a blackbird clamped in her jaws. She could feel it’s still-warm blood trickling between her teeth. Besides her, Ouzelheart and Orchidpaw- Tallsun’s former apprentice. It was the least she could do. It was late in the afternoon, the sky was growing reddish with dusk, and the chill of night was biting on the wind.

“Forest’s quiet,” Ouzelheart commented as they reached the path to camp. The wind torn across the flat stones and rattled the pines.

“Is the prey hiding because it’s cold?” Orchidpaw asked, muffled by a mouthful of squirrel.

“Could be,” Pinefrost answered in the most mentorly voice she could manage, “how would you find prey when it’s cold and it’s all hiding?”

Orchidpaw gave her a funny look, brow furrowing and ears twitching.

“Warm up a mouse-hole to lure it out?”

“Uh, not quite,”

Pinefrost struggled for an answer- was there even an answer? Just keep hunting until you catch something.

Ouzelheart answered for her,

“When it’s cold, I try hunting near the base of the cliffs, or by the big oaks,” she glanced at Pinefrost, as if unsure of whether she should have spoken, “it’s more sheltered,”

Orchidpaw gave a studious nod. _Shellspine’s got it wrong, she’s not that useless_. She gave a friendly twitch of her whiskers as Ouzelheart shot her another look- another frightened check to make sure she was still following, hadn’t been grabbed by hidden WoodClan warriors.

Back in camp, Ouzelheart and Orchidpaw vanished and melted into the background. The camp was empty, quiet. She could feel the tension, like a living thing, inside the Clan. A parasite of their fear; sucking them dry so it could grow. It was almost painful- waiting. Constantly tense, unable to do anything about it. Pinefrost was dying to do something.

Dying to finally sink her claws into a WoodClan pelt.

It would all end in a battle, wouldn’t it? The slate would be wiped clean. She could shake off Tallsun’s death, take her revenge against the WoodClan warriors, prove to Dandelionfall that this is the way, this is how we live.

Then the Clan could start preparing for leafbare in earnest. Once WoodClan was dealt with.

Leafbare. WoodClan. Leafbare. WoodClan. CreekClan- trapped between the two of them.

Pinefrost realised she was pacing. She stopped suddenly, grinding her claws against the rock. It had gotten dark.

“Alright?” Kiteheart grunted, raising her head from where she was grooming herself against a flat rock.

“Yeah- just- need something to do,” _or I’ll go mad thinking._

Kiteheart sniffed, yawned, stretched out her forelegs.

“Well, I need someone to lead a night patrol,”

Pinefrost’s paws tingled. Special mission. She looked up at Kiteheart.

“What is it?”

Kiteheart wiped her muzzle with the back of a paw and grunted.

“Head down to the border, see what’s going on, I want to make sure they aren’t trying anything,”

Pinefrost gave a stiff nod and a voice sounded from behind her.

“Oh can I come?” She turned her head to see Shellspine standing behind her, perfectly still, long tail plumed in the air.

“As long as Pinefrost agrees,” Kiteheart answered.

“First patrol huh?” Shellspine touched Pinefrost’s shoulder with her tail- an unusually friendly gesture that made her fur creep.

“I’d be happy to have you,”

“Great-“ Kiteheart fixed Shellspine with a glare, “and remember, you’re looking for any signs of WoodClan, got it?” She held her gaze.

“Got it,” Pinefrost croaked. Kiteheart kept staring at Shellspine, until she nodded, and then twitched her tail,

“Take some other warriors with you,” she rolled over onto her side, back facing the warriors, and slumped further into the rock.

Pinefrost stared at her scared, ruffled pelt, before suddenly realising she was in charge. She had to pick the rest of the patrol.

She turned around to see Shellspine looking at her, eyes level; Pinefrost was as tall as her now.

“Who else?” She asked. Pinefrost’s mind seemed to shut down. She suddenly felt nervous asking her own Clanmates to join her.

“I’m just thinking who would be, appropriate,” she stumbled for a reply, nervously glancing between the groups of warriors that lined the hollow.

Shellspine blinked,

“Well, I usually take warriors I _trust_ , you know? Someone I can count on,” she offered.

Pinefrost nodded dully. She glanced around camp again, hoping someone would catch her eye so she could pick them, but no one was looking.

 _Dandelionfall_. She thought. Maybe she could finally show her sister that WoodClan was the enemy, that this was right. She still regretted their fight. Then she spotted her sitting besides Chestnutspike and her mind clouded with jealousy. _No_. _Forget it._

“Well hurry up and pick, I might fall asleep on my paws,”

“Ouzelheart?”

“That skittish runt? She’d run away at the first sight of a shadow, can’t trust her,”

“Slightcloud?” She tried, hoping the older molly would approve of her choices.

“Don’t ask me, I’m not leading this patrol,”

Pinefrost flexed her claws. _She’s just testing me._

Pinefrost looked for Slightcloud.

_But what if I don’t pick right?_

“Slightcloud!” She called, and her voice cracked. She cleared her throat, “I’m leading a night patrol-“ _do you want to come? You are coming? I’m selecting you? What do I say?_ Before she could finish her sentence, he padded over, his still-damp fur still glistening.

“WoodClan? Cool,” his dark eyes light up for a heartbeat, then returned to their dull, grim stare. She tried not to think about it.

“Just us?” Slightcloud gave Shellspine a nod as he approached, touching her shoulder with his tail.

“No-“ Pinefrost hurriedly looked around again. She was practically begging for someone to look up at her. Who was she supposed to pick?

As her gaze flitted over the apprentice’s den, she saw Baypaw lift his head.

Not him.

She searched for a lithe black pelt, and found it, tucked in a grassy knoll. Hopefully she wasn’t asleep.

“Ouzelheart!”

Shellspine scoffed. Pinefrost doubled down- _this is my patrol._

“Border patrol,” she tried to give a cool, subtle nod, instead jerked her chin awkwardly at the bramble tunnel out of camp.

Ouzelheart nodded.

 _Even if Shellspine doesn’t like her, I can trust her_ , Pinefrost thought, _she’ll have both ears out for WoodClan._

Patrol assembled, Pinefrost hurriedly explained what Kiteheart told her to them. Shellspine was quiet- blessedly- throughout, her tail slowly waving over her back as Pinefrost told them what Kiteheart had- check everything. She couldn’t help but worry what that meant. Just _check_? Maybe she was interpreting it wrong- maybe a better warrior would know it meant something, maybe they could deduce information from every leaf and twig, every pawstep in the ground, that told them exactly what WoodClan were up to.

They set out silently, thought Pinefrost could only guess that Slightcloud and Shellspine were having some unspoken conversation though glances alone, and hurried into the forest. As she led the way down the stream path, she kept her jaws parted to taste the air, ears pricked and alert. WoodClan could have been anywhere.

“We’ll head along the cliffs,” she decided, preferring to stay in the safe, sandy paths at the base of the cliffs- not the tangled undergrowth of the forest, dark with shadows, “then we can make our way down the river, and back along the stream,”

“Good idea,” Slightcloud gave a twitch of his tail, “I’ll take the back,”

“Sure,”

They set off for the border in silence. The night was still. Quiet. Dark. Everything was covered in shadow, and Pinefrost was glad her dark pelt blended into the ground.

As they crept closer, Pinefrost raised her tail. She shivered, fear prickling across her skin. She felt tight, tense. There was barely any moon. _The night will give us cover._ The border was ahead. She pricked her ears; three sets of pawsteps behind her. She sighed in relief. The border scent was faint. She could see it, the tight cluster of spindly birch trees, a roll of dying bramble, a scuffed line between a rock and a plum tree.

With a wave of her tail, her patrol fanned out.

 _Check everything._ Pinefrost’s fur prickled. Was that upturned patch of dirt signs of WoodClan’s imminent invasion, or a blackbird digging for worms? She kept searching. She knew what WoodClan trickery looked like- she _felt_ it deep down.

Trees rustled overhead, the air was thick with the damp scent of decay. Pinefrost was sniffing the air with her jaws parted, the border scent was stale up near the cliffs, but it grew stronger as the patrol wound its way through the alders and elms into the heart of the forest. WoodClan’s scent soaked everything. An owl hooted in the trees, something skittered away under a rowan. The tang of crushed ferns made Pinefrost’s throat itch. Close to the battleground now, she realised, and glanced behind to check her patrol were following. She caught Shellspine’s eye as the dark tabby pushed at a fern. Her face lit.

“Checking WoodClan,” Shellspine mewed suddenly, a strange lilt to her mew, “Cranestar must be planning something,” she padded forward with her tail in the air, head swinging from side to side as she scanned the border.

“Would you keep your voice down?” Ouzelheart whispered.

“What? It’s not like they can hear me,” she tossed her head into the air and picked up speed, her pelt rippling with confidence as she strode ahead, but not quite overtaking Pinefrost.

Shellspine climbed neatly over a dogwood branch, fur streaming with easy, smooth movement.

“I mean really, we need to put a stop to them once and for all,”

Slightcloud grunted in agreement from the back, and Pinefrost nodded.

“Have the senior warriors said anything?” She asked, casually sniffing at a rotting tree stump- _checking_ \- and glancing at Shellspine.

“Hm, Goatfur’s as bad tempered as always, Baypaw’s behind on his training again, no surprise- hey do you think that hawthorn looks funny?”

She pricked her ears.

“Which hawthorn?” Padding over to Shellspine, she glanced around the forest. A hawthorn was crouched over a gulley, shadowed and dark.

“Look’s- like any other hawthorn to me,”

“Huh,” Shellspine whirled around and headed for the other side of the path, returning to silently checking. All along the border, it was quiet. A shrew was startled by a grass tussock, a birds nest was upturned under an alder. The ground was slowly regaining its grass. Nothing stirred.

Soon, the river came into view. Pinefrost climbed up the ridge and paused, letting the wind ruffle her fur. Under the faint scratch of moonlight, the water was silver. The marsh lay beneath her, water gurgling against the rocks and reeds. Sawgrass rattled, something small splashed into the water. On the other side of the river, WoodClan’s field. The grass shimmered under the moon, rippled by the wind. Other than the faint cooing of a pigeon, the distant bark of a fox, there was nothing.

Nothing. She sighed- in relief or frustration? They had checked the entire border, and there was nothing.

She bit her lip. It felt like a let down.

“Let’s head back,” she turned her head to see Shellspine, Ouzelheart, and Slightcloud arranged in a fan behind her.

Shellspine nodded, stepping aside to let Pinefrost take the lead and head towards the stream. She skirted the marsh, gazing down at the moonlit water. A cloud crossed the moon and plunged them back into darkness. She pricked her ears, she could hear the stream, bubbling into the marsh. It was calm here, back in the depths of CreekClan’s forest. The shadows here were comforting, because she could recognise them. That was the thick, dark stripe of the pines; she knew every hiding place here. Picking up speed, she began to trot, listening for her patrol’s pawsteps.

Before she could get to the stream, she heard a crack, and halted.

Between the trees, something moved.

“Stop!” Ouzelheart hissed.

A shadow dropped, Pinefrost’s heart leapt forward and began racing against her chest. My first patrol, and we have trouble. She grit her teeth together and willed her heart to be still, cleared her mind, _focus_! What was she supposed to do? She glanced at Slightcloud, and nodded slightly when he stared back.

To her surprise- and her relief- he took it as the acknowledgement of a senior warrior, fan out, circle it, not an apprentice’s awakward reflex.

They crept around, Pinefrost lifted her tail into the air and held it as still as she could. Where was it? She narrowed her eyes. There- a dark shape huddled against the ground. _WoodClan_. 

She would sink her claws into its shoulders, feel the fur sink and the skin pop and the thick, warm blood rush over her claws; muscle twitching under her paws, snarling, howling cat writhing beneath her. Her hot breath warmed the air in front of her. She was lightheaded with hate. There it was, moving, breathing, living- crouched against the forest floor, a sharp stick curled in it’s paw.

_In it’s paw?_ Pinefrost’s head shot up. The creature moved.

It wasn’t a cat.

Her tail thunked down. The others stopped too. She watched with her heart in her mouth as it raised its paw, and brought it back against the ground- _thunk_ \- and again- _thunk_ \- and again- _thunk, thunk, thunk-_ like a woodpecker against a tree.

The creature got up. She felt Ouzelheart press against her. 

It was tall, thin, with long limbs and two paws dangling at its side. Through the faint moonlight she could see it was green-grey, mottled with brown and black, the colour of fallen green leaves against slate. Something about the colour was familiar to her- but she couldn’t quite place it.

“Twolegs!” Shellspine whispered. Her eyes were wide with intrigue. Pinefrost glanced at her, _Twolegs_?

She saw her claws flex once, twice, and then her paws kneaded the ground with excitement.

 _Twolegs_. Pinefrost thought, and whipped her head back around to stare between the trees.

“Really?” She breathed.

That was a Twoleg? It was a little short, a little dull-looking; but what had she expected really?

“Yeah- look at it,” Shellspine slid a paw forward and slowly shifted her weight, craning her neck out to get a better look. Her orange eyes were bright with excitement.

Pinefrost stretched her neck to peer from under the bush. The Twoleg was lumbering between the trees, rattling a strange coil of vine. The noise of it, scraping and clinking, cut through her like claws.

The Twoleg was rolling out a ball of tightly coiled vine, silver and thorny, across the forest floor. It wrapped it around the trees, stretching its’ fierce looking spikes across the gap. At certain points it would stop, draw out a long stick from its side, and - _thunk_ \- hit it into the ground, or tree, or around a rock jutting from the soil.

Pinefrost was intrigued. She could hear Shellspine’s breathing, tight with excitement, and glanced at her.

“Don’t you go any closer!” Ouzelheart hissed. The black molly’s pelt was spiked in alarm, rippling with fear.

“I’m not!” Shellspine muttered back, catching Pinefrost’s gaze and rolling her eyes. Pinefrost’s whiskers twitched in alarm. Twolegs weren’t so bad as long as they stayed hidden.

“What is it doing?” Slightcloud whispered.

Pinefrost tipped her head. Something about it was familiar. The shiny vine laying across the forest, it was- what was it called again? She could remember the way it rattled, the way it glistened in the sunlight, from her walk with Hollytangle.

“It’s silverthorn,” she mewed, the name striking her suddenly. “Don’t touch it,” she added.

“How do you know that?” Shellspine sounded almost impressed.

“Warrior’s know these things,” Pinefrost gave a twitch of her tail tip. A paw jabbed her in the side and she heard Shellspine scoff.

She continued watching, breathing as quietly as she could, as the Twoleg worked. It stopped by the stream, and then, from the other side, another one appeared.

“More of them,”

“Must be a patrol,” Pinefrost tipped her head and listened. Their footsteps were fading. Eventually, she got up. The silverthorn was tangled around every rock and tree and stray bush around the stream.

“We’ll tell Cranestar later,” she mewed, uneasy. Shellspine nodded, and with that, Pinefrost headed up slope.

Shellspine was close behind her, trotting at a quick pace as she led them back to camp. Pinefrost was deep in thought. What would she say?

She had to report the silverthorn, obviously, someone could get hurt on it. But what about WoodClan? They had been nothing.

Her claws scratched stone and she gave a faint hiss of irritation. No WoodClan. What would she do? As they climbed back up the slope, with the wind whispering around them, Pinefrost became aware of a noise in the distance. Something low and deep. It felt _heavy_ , like a fat fly over the river, aimlessly buzzing over the water. Her ears throbbed with the noise as it grew louder, deeper, until she swore it was right over her head.

“Is that thunder?” She raised her head and turned back to face the open plains below. The horizon was dark; the wind swept her fur. She heard Slightcloud take a sudden, sharp breath before the sky beyond the trees lit up with flashes of white. Dark shapes silhouetted the flat horizon as it flashed with colour. _Twolegplace_!

“Doesn’t- doesn’t seem like it,” Ouzelheart shifted her paws and gravel spilled down the pathway, tumbling down to the shadows below.

“Fire?” Shellspine tipped her head.

Pinefrost stared. Across the black, clear sky, huge beams of light swept across Silverpelt, criss-crossing this way and that, piercing the darkness of the night sky. She could taste something bitter, a burnt taste that made her scrap her tongue against her teeth to try remove it.

A crack split the air, then rumbled, and Pinefrost swore the sky seemed to shake. Her heart quickened.

“Get a move on, it’ll be cold soon,” Slightcloud’s mew wavered.

“Yes- StarClan knows those WoodClan cats will be looking for us,” Shellspine agreed.

“D-don’t say that,” Ouzelheart mewed. Pinefrost could see she had one eye on the bright skyline, and that her heart wasn’t in the WoodClan joke at all.

They continued on, quicker now. Soon, the outline of camp came into view, a ragged line of trees against the dark stone. She pricked her ears as she heard Shellspine’s paws slow down, then Slightcloud’s.

Pinefrost’s pelt prickled with suspicion. Why had they stopped? Had they heard something?

“Stop,” Shellspine mewed finally, and Pinefrost could have almost sighed with relief. She stopped, and turned around on the path to face them; their faces hidden by the shadow.

“What?” Ouzelheart whispered, exasperated.

“Listen, both of you,” she corralled the four of them into a huddle with her tail, voice low and hurried, “we don’t have much time,”

“What do you mean?” Ouzelheart’s mew trembled. Pinefrost dug her claws into the ground- _time? Time for what?_ She stared at Shellspine’s dark eyes.

“WoodClan!” She hissed, “we know they’re out there, right? And Cranestar’s just delaying doing anything,”

There was silence. Pinefrost stared. What was she saying? Shellspine gave an irritated flick of her tail, eyes searching her own.

“They could be planning another attack, any moment now,” Slightcloud added.

“We’re just wasting time, right?”

Pinefrost was tearing at the ground with her claws. _Finally! Someone else gets it!_

Her mind was catching up now. If Cranestar was delaying, then maybe she just needed a push to make a decision. Something to break the tension.

“So you’re saying, we tell Cranestar that we saw WoodClan?”

“Not that we _saw_ WoodClan,” Shellspine rolled the word around in her mouth and gave a little shake of her tail. Pinefrost nodded.

Shellspine’s ears flicked and her eyes glistened.

“I always knew I could trust you Pinefrost,” she nodded approvingly, and Pinefrost felt a warm spark inside.

She glanced sideways at Slightcloud, who had Ouzelheart fixed with a stare- one that dared her to say anything.

“Come on Ouzelheart,” Shellspine pressed.

“I- I’m not sure,” she began, but Slightcloud cut her off with a growl.

“Don’t you remember?” Slightcloud began, “The battle last greenleaf? I lost my sister, and you lost your parents,

“She knows what it’s like to lose both parents as well,” Slightcloud gestured at Pinefrost, and then at Shellspine, “and her, we all do. All we want is to finally get rid of WoodClan,”

Pinefrost ignored the sting. Her parents. Revenge on WoodClan. The relief inside her was huge. Finally, it was all falling into place. It just needed a little push.

Ouzelheart glanced up, eyes fraught with pain.

“Don’t-“

“I wouldn’t be doing this if I didn’t think it was right,” Slightcloud

“Warrior’s do what is best for their Clan,” Pinefrost

The four of them, united by their pain. Pinefrost felt the icy grief inside her begin to melt. Ouzelheart dropped her head. She didn’t speak, but gave a faint nod.

Shellspine rocked back on her heels and huffed,

“That settles it then.” She licked her lips and motioned for Pinefrost to move. Pinefrost did what she was told and got up, leading them back up the slope again. She couldn’t help but glance back at Shellspine, uncertainty roiling in her stomach.

“But what do I say?” She mewed, “that the bracken was trampled down?”

“Yes that’s perfect,” Shellspine agreed, “after all, they did make a real mess of that forest,” she clucked her tongue, waved her tail, and dropped back into the patrol. Pinefrost walked ahead silently. Camp was close, maybe a few warriors would be awake.

Dawn was coming, pale and golden and soft. The stars were fading. Pinefrost glanced up at the sky, trying to spot the last few flickering flecks of Silverpelt.

_I’ll make you proud._

She picked up speed, steeled herself, and pushed her way into the camp. 

“Kiteheart!” She called. Her voice was loud, echoing around the camp, “Kiteheart!”

“Great StarClan, what’s all the shouting for?” Muffled grumbles rose from the dens, pawsteps on hard earth, groans as the Clan was shocked from sleep.

Pinefrost pushed down the guilt at waking her Clanmates. She focused her eyes on the warriors den, and waited with baited breath as Kiteheart raised her head.

“What is it?” She was perched on a rock, tail hanging into the pool, the fur splayed over the still surface.

“Bad news I’m afraid,” Shellspine mewed, and Kiteheart only twitched an ear.

 _Does she know?_ Pinefrost glanced back at the tabby molly, and then at their deputy. She had been sat at the edge of the pool, as if she was waiting.

A claw jabbed her flank. Pinefrost jolted. _Right, speak._

“Trees-“ she began, stumbling over her words. She cleared her throat, “WoodClan have been in the birch copse again, the bushes were flattened, twigs broken,”

Flaxstripe growled,

“How dare they!”

“Any prey stolen?”

“N-no,” Pinefrost stammered under the weight of the deputies intense glare, “they weren’t there hunting, they were there to scout out _our_ territory,” 

“We have to stop them!” Teaselstalk yowled.

“We have to go now!”

“They could be on our territory as we sit here!” Slightcloud shouted, his fur bristling as he stalked into the centre of camp, “why won’t you do anything?”

His voice was joined by a few others, hissing, spitting, until Kiteheart raised her tail and the mob went quiet.

The silence hung.

There was a splash, and Pinefrost saw Cranestar ghosting to Kiteheart’s side. She was staring at Pinefrost, grey eyes hidden by shadow.

Pinefrost raised her chin. She knew what Cranestar saw- a warrior who shouldn’t have been made a warrior- _well I’ll prove you wrong._

Then, Cranestar spoke. Her voice was raspy, but she stood tall and proud at the top of the rocks.

“CreekClan, you know I had my doubts about whether we should attack WoodClan so close to leafbare, but it seems our warrior ancestors have decided, it is time,”

Pinefrost joined in with the collective yowl that sprung up from the heart of the Clan. She could feel the relief inside her, breaking, like a storm in greenleaf. All the tension seemed to shatter. This was it.

“Tomorrow! On the night of the new moon!”

Pinefrost opened her eyes to see the golden dawn sky staring down at her. The Clan’s

Tomorrow. She flexed her claws.

Looking back down, she stared around the camp. Shellspine was already corralling the warriors into a huddle, the fur along her back raised.

Chestnutspike and Dandelionfall were sat besides the stream.

Dandelionfall was staring at her, waiting as Pinefrost strode past.

“Convenient,” she mewed.

Pinefrost fixed her with a stare. Whatever she knew, she wouldn’t say. Pinefrost sniffed.

“You can judge me, but it’s for the Clan, for Tallsun,”

“You know this doesn’t end, right?” Dandelionfall gestured at the crowd, then at Kiteheart, sulking into Cranestar’s den.

Pinefrost didn’t have time for this _again_.

“Think what you want,” she glanced at Shellspine and Slightcloud. Maybe she didn’t need Baypaw and Dandelionfall anymore. “You want to be a traitor like Chesnutspike? Well, I want to be a good warrior for my Clan, I don’t need you dragging me down,”

She flicked her tail through the air,

“We’re not friends anymore,”

She padded off. She was shaking. Dandelionfall’s voice was echoing in her head.

_It doesn’t end, it never does._

_It does end._ Pinefrost flexed her claws. _I’ll make it end._


	12. Chapter 11

The sky was black. The new moon had come. Darkness enveloped the valley, soft and velvety. Whisper-silent, the cats moved in a line.

Trees rattled overhead in the wind, the cold air was blowing down from the mountains and Pinefrost could taste the fresh scents of the night. She knifed alongside Shellspine, the dark molly’s eyes gleaming hungrily in the shadows, an orange glow- like fire- that fuelled Pinefrost’s rage.

She eyed the line, studying, judging, each of her Clanmates. Did they feel the same as her? She could see claws glinting in the darkness, hear ragged, patient breaths.

Slightcloud was close to her, silent as he ghosted past a wisteria. His eyes were dark as ever, his face twisted into an expression that Pinefrost could only describe as pleased.

He’s glad for this. Pinefrost flexed her claws. So was she. The past few days had taught her one truth- WoodClan would do anything to tear her Clan apart. Their invisible grip reached right into the heart of CreekClan and shattered it.

She glanced to her side. Dandelionfall was stalking alongside Chestnutspike, her eyes blank.

“I’ll protect you, alright?” He murmured, his voice barely loud enough for Pinefrost to make out. If Dandelionfall heard, she didn’t react. She was stumbling along the pathway, eyes wide, head low.

Pinefrost could barely meet her sister’s eyes, and instead turned her head to glance at the apprentices. Chickpaw was striding ahead of her littermates, hard face set in determination. Orchidpaw was besides her, trying to match her confident strides; Pinefrost made a private promise to keep an eye out for them.

_But first I get enough WoodClan fur for my nest._

She flexed her claws into the ground. She couldn’t see Baypaw, he was at the back of the patrol, guarding Sedgenose.

Maybe Kiteheart took some pity on him for once.

A tail raised up ahead, and Pinefrost followed the order. She slipped into position, muscles tightening as her patrol broke off to hide here. She was in the second patrol, with Kiteheart at the front. The backup patrol. Pinefrost crouched under a sagging chestnut bough, her fur spiked with moisture. She tasted the air; the wet wind was blowing their scents away, but she could taste apprehension, fear, and the faint scent of the WoodClan border.

Up ahead, Cranestar led the first patrol around the clearing. Her pale fur was smeared with mud and at times Pinefrost couldn’t see where she ended and the earth began. She was marching ahead, her face set into an unreadable grimace. Pinefrost couldn’t help but feel a spark of pride for her leader; _she may have her doubts, but she leads us when she’s needed._

Next to her, Slightcloud slipped along the forest floor with deft pawsteps. His grey fur was darkened with moisture, his glowing white paws and chest hidden by rotten earth. The ambush patrol slinked away, over the border, to wait.

Pinefrost saw a tail tip vanish between the brambles and held her breath. Terror was creeping up on her as the silence settled in and dug itself into the forest. Nothing stirred. The silence was oppresive.

She turned her head to her Clanmates; Ouzelheart pressed close to her flank. Her green eyes were icy blue in the darkness, her breathing rapid.

Above them, stars blazed. It was a clear night. No clouds, no moon. The darkness covered everything. Dawn was a long way off.

Pinefrost dug her claws into the ground, and waited.

It was all she could do.

Something huge, something overwhelming, seemed to hover above them; darkening the air around them. Pinefrost could barely breath. Her heart pounded painfully against her ribs. Her throat wanted to close, she could feel it tightening as she saw Kiteheart lift her tail; the order to begin creeping closer towards the border. Her fur lifted around her spine.

Dawn began to rise. An indistinct red glow began to light the tree tops. Shadows formed from the darkness, vague shapes at first, then ones Pinefrost began to recognise. A branch here, a rock there. The forest became reddish with light, familiar features emerging in the gloom.

The invisible menace, howling, hissing, spitting, surged into view, and the forest exploded with noise.

Pinefrost held her breath. Wait for Kiteheart’s signal. She snuck a side-eye glimpse towards the deputy; every muscle pulled tight as a vine as she crouched, digging her paws into the ground to hold herself there.

The noise was growing furiously. Pinefrost could barely hear the individual cries and screams- she swore that scream was Flaxstripe, that howl of anger was Shellspine, that was Cranestar, but she had no entire. Everything merged together into one shrieking mass.

Her heart was pounding against her throat, so loud, so strong, she could feel it in her head.

Kiteheart’s ears pricked. Her eyes narrowed. She was judging when to join.

Pinefrost rocked onto her tip toes. _Light on your feet, remember._

Kiteheart’s tail lashed down.

_For Tallsun_ , she thought, and then her mind went blank.

Pinefrost raced forward, crashing through the leaves, snarling with fury, lunged, and dug her claws into the first warm body she found.

The molly bucked underneath her, hissing and spitting as Pinefrost dug her claws in, deeper and deeper. She could feel blood, and thrill of battle drove her to dig in deeper.

“Give in fox-heart,” Pinefrost snarled into her ear, then, tight with anger, lunged forward and bit down into the side of her head.

The molly writhed as she collapsed to the ground, and Pinefrost was forced to let go, pin her down with her paws.

Claws raked across her stomach, pulling tufts of fine, white fur away. Pain made her clench as she felt claws, then the sharp, stabbing of them slicing through her skin. She grit her teeth, pushed the molly into the ground, twisting her body until she felt the strain in her shoulders.

The molly stopped, arching her back and yowling, trying to throw Pinefrost up. She tipped her head back, exposing her neck. Her blood vessels bulged against her skin, the ridges of her throat strained upwards.

Pinefrost lunged forward to bite. 

A weight crashed into her from the side, teeth pricking at her scruff. She was thrown aside, the wind knocked out of her as she hit the ground.

Quick as lightning, Pinefrost scrambled for a perch. She threw off her attacker and wheeled around to face him; a yellow and white tom, his pelt smeared red with blood. Heaving for breath, dizzy from the fall, Pinefrost braced herself. Blood was trickling from a wound in her shoulder, she could feel it throbbing beneath her fur. The tom faced her, his eyes small chips of gleaming malice. He gave a hiss, and Pinefrost saw his teeth, red with her blood. She raced forward, ducking to his side to score her claws across his flanks. He yowled in pain, whirled around to follow her. Pinefrost did the same, doubling back to lunge at his face with her claws outstretched. Her claws sliced through his muzzle, his nose, his cheek, as she slashed up, feeling blood spray the air.

She landed with a thud, shoulder buckling.

The tom howled, legs thrashing, turned tail, and fled, and Pinefrost stood there, gasping for breath and trying to stay standing. Her shoulder. She craned her neck to try see. It looked bad, it looked deep, angry.

The adrenaline was burning off. She’d bruised her back, her legs ached, she was definitely missing a claw. _You can’t sneak off now!_

Triumph raced through her as she saw the white and yellow tom vanish behind a bramble thicker and she glanced around the clearing, claws flashing, ready to face another WoodClan warrior.

She could see Shellspine, battling two hefty WoodClan toms by the base of a rowan. Flaxstripe, racing to Chickpaw and Orchidpaw as a tortoiseshell faced them.

Who needed her help? Kiteheart was wrestling a flecked grey warrior, pinned to the earth; but there, by a birch tree, Cranestar was cornered. A speckled brown molly and a pale tom where harrying the CreekClan leader into a corner. Cranestar’s eyes were narrowed, her lips peeled back in a snarl.

The tom dodged her frantic swipes, a mocking purr making his body shake. Rearing up, he raised a huge, vicious paw. Claws glinted in the sunlight. His paw slashed across Cranestar’s face, slicing through her muzzle ruthlessly. Pinefrost heard her yowl: a shriek that tore into her soul.

Instantly she ran towards her leader, rage burning through her. _How dare they!_

Pinefrost ducked a swipe from a brown tom and pelted away, grass tearing under her claws. She was going to reach Cranestar, just a little further-

To her side, a tortoiseshell writhed under the claws of a burly yellow tom. _Dandelionfall!_

She was pressed to the ground, a huge warrior pinning her down, paws fixed on her chest, while his hind claws tore at her fur. Sunstar had her pinned to the ground.

Panic gripped Pinefrost. Her sister’s wails struck her sharper than any claws.

_But Cranestar!_

Pinefrost ducked another WoodClan warrior’s blow, frantically looking around the battlefield.

_Where’s Chestnutspike?_ Pinefrost felt her heart skip as she looked around for the dark red tom, but with a jolt of horror, realised he wasn’t there.

_He said he’d protect her!_

Her mind whirled- Cranestar was being beaten by warriors, fox-lengths away from her, CreekClan depended on her, but Dandelionfall-

Pinefrost dug her claws into the ground and rushed forward, racing across the clearing. Her claws tore up grass and dirt and she bunched her muscles as she honed in on the WoodClan tom.

“Get off!” Slamming into the warrior, she sunk her teeth into his neck and felt her claws pop through soft, fatty tissue. He reared up in agony, releasing Dandelionfall from his grip.

With a yowl, Dandelionfall writhed free and fled, her fur bushed out in terror. Pinefrost saw her tail tip vanish into the brambles before a paw slammed into her head. Her vision flickered, she stumbled to the ground. The dirt was hard. Pain shot through her and she struggled to breath as a weight pressed down, squashing her against the ground. The air was knocked out of her, and Pinefrost was stunned.

Sunstar leaned over her, blazing with fury. He snarled and spit flew from his bloody jaws. His face was contorted into a grotesque mask of fury.

“Think you’re tough, kitty?” His rank breath stung as he growled in her ear. Pinefrost barely had the breath to snarl back.

She felt his claws relax, just briefly, and rage flooded through her.

Thinking fast, Pinefrost gathered her haunches and pushed as hard as she could, but nothing. She panicked, clawing his bellt with her hind legs. His fur came away, clouds of wispy strands, as she slashed again and again, until blood was pouring down her hind claws and dripping onto her stomach.

Pinefrost dug her claws in and snarled. She felt hot breath on her muzzle, blood dripping down onto her. Sunstar was pushing down on her, claws pinning her.

_This is it._

Her vision waned. Darkness pushed in. The weight on her throat pressed down further. Pressure built in her head, and she opened her jaws in a soundless scream for air as a paw slid over her throat, heavy and crushing.

Strangely, she felt no fear as he stared at her. Yellow eyes, bright as the sun, boring straight into her. She could feel the blood running down her claws- his blood- and her own blood, pouring from the puncture wounds he left. How had Tallsun felt in her last moments? Balanced on the top of the rain-slick bough, her claws in Callafur’s throat, had she felt pride? Anger? Joy? Sad? Pinefrost didn’t feel anything. She felt like her body was there, but she was slipping away, slipping through it into something liquid and floating and _different_.

She could hear something; a buzzing. A faraway sound, the river crashing between the gorge. A roaring, a faint sound that reminded her of being perched on the clifftop, staring at the sky, a silver flash between the clouds.

She gasped, prepared for darkness. Claws dug further into her frail body, the blood hammering beneath.

And then, without warning, the sky lit up.


	13. Chapter 12

_The sky is white!_

Pinefrost dug her claws into the tom’s chest and threw him off her, pushing with all her might so she could scamper away. But she was held in place, frozen with terror in the crevasse as she stared into the sky.

The blindness whiteness pierced through the forest. Every peak, ridge, crevasse, branch, bush, cat, was illuminated with such brilliant light that Pinefrost could barely believe it. Whiter than any white, then colour. The sky was gold as sunlight, then yellow, then purple, violet, grey- all lighting the sky with a dazzling brightness that stabbed at her eyes. Even with her eyes squeezed tightly, she could still see the light. Her vision was red as blood. The light seemed to crash through everything- piercing, unending.

Above her, Sunstar shrieked. Though half-open eyes she could see him, illuminated, the light shining _through_ him-

The terror of the sight was enough to drive Pinefrost to move- dig her claws at Sunstar’s unreal frame and pushed. He rolled off her, light as a feather.

Everything was white and everything was quiet. She could hear the blood pounding in her ear as she moved in slowness

A shriek pierced the eerily still air, and then another, and another. She felt someone rush past her, and as she staggered to stand, saw a tail tip vanish into the white forest.

“Pinefrost!” Her whole body went numb. Pinefrost whirled around. Dandelionfall! She squinted, barely able to see through the piercing white light. She could hear something. A dull roar. Screams. Panic. She had to find Dandelionfall.

“Pinefrost!” Her sister screeched again, and Pinefrost sprang forward. The ground felt unstable, shaking. She struggled to stand properly, was that her own legs shaking or the earth?

She didn’t know. She had to find Dandelionfall.

For a heartbeat she saw her, illuminated by the sky, bloodied, but standing. She met her eyes, round with terror, and looked up to the exploding red sky; searing pain tearing through her eyes as she saw a towering cloud, alive with flame. Taller than any tree, or cliff, of late greenleaf stormcloud- a huge mass of roiling, glowing cloud. 

Pinefrost felt her sister’s shock, her heart-stopping terror, as sharp and as cold as if it was her own. She opened her mouth to scream for her but nothing came.

Then there was a sound. A dreadful, ear-splitting howling. The earth seemed to split apart with a great roar. Trees bent and crackled as the wind rushed through the forest, rushing over her as she crouched, claws dug into the earth, desperately trying to cling onto something.

She yowled in sheer terror. Her claws flailed, her body twisted. She was thrown, effortlessly, and was caught by a thorn bush. A screech tore through her as the wind kept rushing, pushing, a whole storm in a single gust of wind. Silent as night. Strong as a wave in the gorge; enough to hold someone under.

Pinefrost watched through one eye as the forest bent over under the force, cats flung through the air, branches straining against ancient trunks, roots pulling from the ground. Dust swept through, a great wall of shimmering particles that slammed through the tree line. Her fur lifted in electric fear. _Run!_ Her mind scrambled for one single thought as she glanced towards where Dandelionfall had been.

_Run_!

She couldn’t move. Something was creeping forward in the treeline. Rapid yellow shapes, twisting and concorting between the broughs, snaking towards her. Red and orange. Amber like marigold; the colour of the brilliant sun.

_Fire_!

A wave of intense heat swept through the forest. The trees caught alight instantaneously, bursting into flame. Noise and heat slammed into Pinefrost and she sprang from the dip, terrified. She shrieked like a kit as she charged, blindly, head pounding, heart racing, pelt prickling and bristling as a thousand sounds and senses bore down on her and the forest set itself ablaze in an instant.

Terror gripped Pinefrost like icy claws, squeezing her chest closed. Her eyes flew wide, her legs trembled, her heart thumped against her ribcage uncomfortably. Her ears pounded. She wriggled through thorns, fur snagging and being yanked off, and kept running. Screaming cats, creaking wood, filled the air. Smoke whirled and spread, darkening the air with its poisonous fumes.

_I have to get out!_

Where? Her mind was racing. The whole world seemed to have suddenly lit itself on fire. Where could she escape to? She frantically searched for a path down slope.

Her claws gripped the rugged earth and tore up grass and dirt as she pelted down the forest slope. Around her the forest was being swallowed by fire; it seemed to be racing after her. She leapt over knolls and flowering bushes, each one bursting into hot flame as she tore past. Pushing on, she kept running. Between the gaps in the trees, the sky was

Her paws carried her as her mind went blank with primal terror. Her chest was hot, liquid, loud with fear, heart screaming as it pounded inside her fragile ribs. Pawsteps thummed the ground, and she put on speed. She could see the bushes ahead, ablaze as the fire raced ahead of her, and she bunched her muscles to jump. Fire stroked her belly and she crashed onto the forest floor on the other side. She could barely pause to catch her breath. A tree exploded next to her, bark and splinters shattering through the air.

Pinefrost scrambled away from the burning elm as it crashed down. Its canopy was a million embers, glowing with fire, and sparks flew as the tree collapsed. She looked around wildly, frantically trying to find a path to lead her to the river.

The air shimmered with heat, vibrating with white-hot temperature as the wind tore through the forest, unrelenting. Sparks showered down as a tree branch caught fire above her. She had no idea where she was.

Everything was red, smoky, disorientated and bright. Was that the sky, or had the fire grown so big it overtook the trees? She hadn’t a clue. She had no idea of anything.

Smoke billowed upwards, towering stacks of black. She was fighting for breath now, desperate to find a way out. She drew herself up, trembling, and began searching for a way. Any way. Downslope. Through the trees.

There. A gap. A faint sliver of grey, cold rock between the fire, a pathway down to the river. She braced herself to run again, and then she saw it. A faint, dangling figure in the nearest tree. _A cat!_

_There’s no way._ Pinefrost was stunned. Even as she felt the heat from the fire scorch her back she couldn’t move.

“Help! Help me!” The cat wailed. Her legs flailed in the air. The birch branch sagged, bark splintered, and her tail lashed the air in panic. Another bang as the tree bark flew off, another loud crack as a branch was burnt off and came crashing down. The birch was alive with fire. The cat wailed and Pinefrost saw how small the figure was, how thin it’s legs were.

_StarClan, that’s an apprentice!_

Pinefrost was frozen. Smoke dizzied her and her vision swam.

You have to do something!

Pinefrost glanced desperately at the rock path. The fire was closing in, the path would be gone.

She grit her teeth. _But the cat!_ The tree was dipping and melting, the cat dangling from the branch swayed, legs churning the air. There was no way it could hang on.

Another tree cracked, and branches came raining down from the canopy, leaves and bark alight.

The birch would be gone too. Even if she tried to save the cat, who knew when it would collapse?

Pinefrost bunched her shoulders, gave one last look at the tiny cat in the birch, and saw movement at the edge of her vision. From where she came, another cat pelted towards the tree.

It leapt onto the blackened tree. Pinefrost froze, terror-struck. Burnt bark crumbled away as the huge warrior hauled himself up the blazing trunk. High in the canopy, the murderous heat ate through the branches, and another ancient tree came toppling down with a low, painful groan.

Pinefrost sprang backwards with a shriek as a rowan came pitching towards her. She doubled back into the reaching fire, staggered, slipped, and tore away from the scene, pelting down the forest slope. The tree crashed down behind her, cutting through the forest, an impenetrable wall of fire. The air became full of cinders and she had to run. The path was nearly swallowed by fire as her paws touched hot rock.

Burning grass and moss blazed besides her. She pushed on through the swirling smoke and charred leaves that filled the air. Barely recognising the clustered oaks and beeches, she pushed on, praying to reach the river.

The trees thinned and Pinefrost spotted light through the thick smoke. She burst through the black undergrowth and hurtled forward, carried by fear, into the river. It was as grey as smoke, shimmering like a mirage. Her paws skimmed stone, and she leapt, face first, into the raging water.

Cold water swallowed her, and her legs flailed as she stumbled off the stone shore into free flowing water. Fighting to keep her head up, she gasped for air. The smouldering heat choked her lungs and she was seized with pain and dragged back under.

She kicked out, the urge to survive taking over, and her head broke the surface again. Brown water rushed from her jaws as she coughed and spluttered and splashed her forepaws to swim.

She pulled for the middle of the river. Kicking as strongly as she could, treading water as best as she could. She could feel her legs tiring, blood flowing from wounds, and strained to see the shoreline.

Smoke shouldered in from the forest, and for a heartbeat it was midnight. She couldn’t see. Water lapped at her neck. The current lifted her and her limbs went slack and she drifted, terrified. She could hear the trees falling, embers snapping and popping behind her. She was utterly blind, stifled in the heat. She could feel the fire on the bush, the meadow was alive with it, huge waves of rolling fire. The sky too- bloodshot and red.

Pinefrost couldn’t do anything but find her way to shore. The wind was howling, the fire raging, and the river was pushing her faster and faster away from the forest. She struggled to steer herself.

“This way!” A call broke the cacophony and Pinefrost steered herself towards it instinctively. Her legs churned through water, reaching for a stony bottom that felt just out of reach.

Her claw tips scraped rock, and she paddled forward. The water felt thick, unresponsive, Pinefrost wasn’t going forward. A growl bubbled between her lips as she struggled to swim, water lapping over her nose and eyes. She choked for another breath, dipping beneath the surface. Her legs buckled, and her chest slammed into stone. The current had shoved her onto the sloping bank. She crawled forward, pawstep by pawsteps, and felt the solid pebbles beneath her.

She opened her eyes to see a stony beach in front of her, sheltered by a ridge of hard mud. The ground was gravelly and unstable, shifting away as she gingerly placed her weight on it.

A cat was running towards her, sprinting though the ashy grass towards her.

“Over here!” Pinefrost gasped through a mouthful of water. Hope sparked inside her as she felt her paws graze pebbles and she splashed clumsily. Straining her legs, she got back to the bank, and she felt a sharp prickle run along her back as she broke the water. She gasped in the heat. She dragged her to the shoreline, covered in muck. Hot air washed over her and Pinefrost hugged the stones as she dragged herself, limp, onto solid, dry earth. Air rushed into her lungs and she coughed. Solid ground! She could barely purr, but her body trembled with relief.

“Is there anyone else?” The cat rasped. Pinefrost weakly shook her head. She raised her head and blinked water from he eyes. Everything was fuzzy. She looked at her rescuer; a grey and white molly with cloud-curly fur and pale green eyes. _WoodClan_. Pinefrost shrunk backwards. _Where’s my Clan?_

“What happened?” Pinefrost coughed up water and looked the molly in the eye, “where’s my Clan?” Her legs trembled and she staggered onto the bank, collapsing with a groan. Water and blood dripped from her pelt, and ash clung to her wet fur. 

“I don’t know,” she answered. She leant down and nudged Pinefrost to stand, “quick, the fire’s still burning,”

She propped herself up to her forepaws and then, slowly, managed to stand. She shied away from the WoodClan cat, and instead faced the burning forest.

The whole treeline was on fire and the smoke was even thicker now; dust and ash swirling through the air. She couldn’t see the cliffs, everything was blocked by the towering smoke.

Fear spiked through Pinefrost and she stopped to study the landscape before her- the fields of WoodClan territory. Where would she go? Where was the grey molly going? Could she trust WoodClan?

“Quickly!” The molly hissed.

“I’m not following you,” Pinefrost hissed resolutely. She tried to stand in a threatening stance, but she was shaking too much to tense up.

“You’ll die if you go into the forest,” the molly repeated, “quickly! Run!”

The wind tore at Pinefrost’s ear fur and her head began to buzz as it roared through the valley- stronger, bringing black flakes and ash in clouds. The air crackled with heat, the fire was surging towards them.

Pinefrost struggled to keep pace. She loped awkwardly forward, desperate to not let herself be led by a WoodClan cat. 

“Where are you going?” Pinefrost broke off in another fit of coughing. River water gurgled in her stomach, heavy as a stone. She felt awful. Her chest ached. Her vision began to blur and she felt the scratches along her side begin to pulse with pain. The adrenaline was burning off.

“There’s an abandoned badger den just here, it’s sheltered, I hope,” she hurried ahead, a note of desperation in her mew. Too weak to say anything, Pinefrost followed.

_I can rest there, then go find my Clanmates_. She glanced at the oozing wound on her shoulder and winced.

_Besides, she’s in no state to attack me._ Pinefrost looked the grey warrior up and down; she was bleeding from burns along her flanks, torn claws, and a ragged cut around one leg.

_It’s one night, one quick rest._

Patches of grass burnt furiously along the trail, few blades glittering with embers. The grey cat hurried ahead, vanishing behind smoke and ash, leaving a flattened path for Pinefrost to limp through.

She could hardly see through the smoke, but thought she saw the grey cat disappear behind a wall of earth, her tail tip flicking through the earth. Catching up, Pinefrost saw the faint outline of a large rock jutting from the sandy earth. She peered down into the hollow. It was a shallow scoop of earth underneath a cluster of rocks. Two holes bored into the earth, deep and angled, and sheltered. The long grass surrounding them was covered in soot, barely burning, and the rock sheltered the hollow from smoke. Pinefrost could hear the roar of the fire, growing louder, and louder, and she wanted to shrink into her paws.

_Dandelionfall! Baypaw!_ She cast a frantic glance over her shoulder. Everything was hidden by the smoke.

“Gravelpelt,” the grey cat shot forward to where a huge tom had curled up against the rock wall.

“You,” the tom rasped, his voice weak, “it’s over,” he lapsed into silence, staring at the wall and Pinefrost felt her spine prick with fear. _WoodClan_. She grimaced. A huge gash split his chest, blood had splattered beneath his side where burns and open scratches lay. His ears bled, his nose was sliced open, and his eyes gleamed with pain.

Pinefrost looked away. She fought to stay standing, her nerves alight as she crept forward to pass the two WoodClan cats. She scrambled to the other side of the sett, propping herself up besides a yawning hole in the ground.

She could only stare at them. Bedraggled, both of them, bleeding and battered. The grey molly was licking a paw, slowly dragging her bleeding tongue up her leg, stopping, spitting the blood on the ground, then continuing. Her eyes were glazed. Exhaustion crept up on her as her heartbeat slowed and pain set in. Blood trickled down her shoulder and Pinefrost turned to lick her shoulder. She gagged instantly. Her fur was damp, tasting of the vile river water. Claw marks pulsed along her sides and the irony tang of blood in her mouth made her stomach curl. She felt sick.

_My Clanmates_. She gazed up at the sky. It was softening from angry red to a dark grey, was it night yet? She couldn’t tell.

Sleep was calling her.

_Tomorrow, find your Clanmates_. She eyed the WoodClan warriors suspiciously, unable to summon the energy

The wind whistled through the blazing grass and showered the hollow in ash, flakes suspended in the air like falling snow. Pinefrost shivered. She looked up towards the sky. It was beginning to settle. The dark grey clouds and pale earth began to form a vaguely recognisable horizon. Vaguely.

Twolegplace had gone, flattened. The ragged, uneven, up-and down silohuoette had been swept away. And the sky was raging, thick with churning, burning, dark clouds that swarmed the sky and hung over the valley.

And in the centre, above Twolegplace, a great stack of burning fire towered into the sky. It was brilliant red and yellow and black, a pillar of collapsing cloud.

In the centre of the hollow, the grey cat stepped forward, close enough to make Pinefrost recoil in disgust, and tipped her head back to stare at the sky. Blood splashed down onto the pale earth from an open wound in her neck.

Her jaw hung open, and she struggled to form words. Pinefrost saw the fright in her eyes and looked away, uneasy, unsafe. Her paws prickled. Her head buzzed. Pinefrost wasn’t sure what she heard as she struggled to stay awake, her eyes ringing with pain, her vision blurring, her body numb with fatigue, and the grey cat whispered

“StarClan, what did you do to us?”


	14. Chapter 13

Pinefrost awoke to darkness. Her head throbbed with sharp pain, her eyes stung like they’d been stuffed with nettles, and she couldn’t see. She stared blankly ahead, her eyes refusing to adjust to the dark.

_Is it still night?_ She opened her jaws to taste the air and coughed as ash and smoke filled her mouth. There was a faint taste of water, dampness, and _WoodClan_. Her fur prickled. She placed her paws in front of her and felt hard, dry earth. 

“We need to make nests for the injured,” a voice spoke.

Pinefrost swivelled her head around. _Who was that?_ She smelt WoodClan, and memories rushed back. She was in an abandoned badger set, curled beneath a rock to shelter from the fire that blazed outside. Her heart began to pound. She raised her head and looked for the tunnel’s exit- where was it? Her den was only a shallow cave, so why couldn’t she see? She swallowed. _I can’t see_. Fright crept down her spine. Had the fire done that? The light? Would it heal? Pain shot through her eyes as she stretched them wide, then blinked.

_Am I going to be blind forever? How will I find my Clan?_

Refusing to let the WoodClan warriors know she was awake, she curled into a ball and folded her tail over her face.

_It’ll go away_. She squeezed her eyes shut and pretended to sleep. Her stomach growled, nausea washed over her, and she felt restless. Her body ached, her heart was sore. She couldn’t sleep; her pulse was racing as her mind replayed the night over and over again.

Dandelionfall was standing with her mouth agape, eyes wide and shining, the light piercing through her-

“Have you seen anyone else?” She heard pawsteps and pricked her ears, snapping out of her thoughts. It was a molly talking, pacing outside the den, the same one who recused her from the river.

“No,” a tom’s voice, deep and gravelly, “we need to move the injured to another den,” he repeated, “I don’t want infection,” _Gravelpelt?_ Pinefrost pricked her ears. Was that what he was called? _And who put him in charge?_ Her fur prickled at his tone. She remembered him, the injured tom that was first in the sett. Pinefrost’s belly churned as the thought of CreekClan warriors, lost in the blazing forest, hit her like a rockfall.

“We can’t move Cuckoopaw,” another WoodClan voice; Pinefrost’s insides churned with unease. Was she surrounded by WoodClan? Her claws twitched. Where was CreekClan? That was a new voice.

“Someone should look for Blackwillow,” The molly mewed with an edge of desperation.

“What about hunting?” The new tom,

“We can’t go into the forest, we have to wait for Sunstar,” Gravelpelt snapped, an air of authority about his voice. Pinefrost pricked an ear. _Can they even get along? They’re Clanmates for StarClans sake!_

“I can’t stay here knowing Henfeather and Blackwillow are somewhere in that forest,”

“You’ll do what I say and stay here,” Gravelpelt’s growl seemed to shake the ground.

“I thought Blackwillow was just behind me,” the molly fretted, “and then when I got to the river-“

“You fished that CreekClan rat out instead,”

Pinefrost growled. _Rat yourself_. She pushed herself further into her nest and stared blankly at the entrance; or what she thought was the entrance. Her claws flexed.

“I thought it was one of our Clanmates,” the molly protested, “besides, we can’t be thinking about Clan divisions if there’s no Clan to go back to!”

“Sunstar is out there somewhere,” Gravelpelt then broke off in a fit of coughing. She heard worried murmurs and pawsteps heading away, and then the voices grew quieter and she couldn’t pick them out.

_No Clans to go back to._

Pinefrost’s head swam with pain and she lay back down, holding back a groan. She smelt singed fur and puss- the sour taste of infection rapidly setting in.

Straining her neck around, forcing down the dizziness, she began to tentatively lick at her shoulder. It stung with fury, and began to bleed again.

_Blackwillow_. She thought. He was the WoodClan medicine cat.

_I have to find Sedgenose_. There was no way the WoodClan medicine cat was looking after her; _if he shows up._

She glanced around the den, a ball of anxiety forming in her stomach. _I have to find my Clan_. It struck her, suddenly and sharply, that she was alone. She was the only CreekClan cat. She opened her eyes, her vision blurry, light and dark swimming across her eyes. It was like staring through water, but it didn’t sting so bad now.

It was light outside, and the shadows that danced across the wall- the heavy, clumsy footfalls- told her the WoodClan cats were right outside her den. She flexed her claws. Only one was missing, and the toe was swollen and sore.

_I could probably take one of them if I had to_ , she chewed on her bottom lip thoughtfully, _but there’s no point trying to escape while it’s still day._

She settled further into the dirt, trying to squash the worries rising inside. She could have sworn the scent of WoodClan was getting stronger.

Fright overtook her and she squeezed her eyes closed, tightening her body into a curl as she feigned sleep. Her ears pricked. She could hear breathing- light, raspy. Was it coming from outside the den? She held her own breath, lungs straining, and listened closer.

No, it was outside. She resumed breathing. Her heart was still racing as she tentatively uncurled.

_I can’t stay here- I’m all alone._

Cautiously, she raised her head and studied the den. It was a low cave of dirt- abandoned halfway through digging, barely shallow enough to cover her. The ground was gravelly and full of stones.

_I’m completely cornered._

She flexed her claws. What sort of CreekClan warrior thought like that? She grit her teeth.

_I’ll leave tonight._

She curled up again, tightly wrapping her tail around her shaking limbs. She willed her heart to stop racing.

_Tonight_ , she thought, and drifted into fitful sleep.

////

The night came, and the hollow grew silent. Pinefrost slowly uncurled, stretching out her limbs as she stood. Like a newborn deer, her legs trembled, and she unevenly staggered to the den exit. Her ears brushed the dirt ceiling, showering over her as she crept forward.

She held her breath as she listened, steadying herself against a wave of nausea that pushed against her throat. She swallowed her fear. She had to get out. Shewas quick. Her muscles ached, stiff and cold, and she shivered as she stepped from her den.

There was no moon. It was pitch black. Cloud cover, she guessed, unable to see. Nausea threatened her balance, but she managed to stagger to the top and crouch on the ridge.

She expected the wind to tear at her fur, but her heart jumped into her throat when she realised it was completely still.

Nothing moved around her. Nothing shone. The darkness was impenetrable. The lingering heak sunk into her bones, clammy and damp.

It was hard to see, Pinefrost’s other senses were working overtime, desperate to find something in the blackness. Her heart began to rabbit against her ribs as she walked, pawstep by ginger pawstep, across the field. The ground was soft underpaw, covered by a layer of silky feeling ash that slipped between her claws.

The forest was smouldering now, glowing dimly on the horizon. Orange and hazy, she could see bright spots of light where embers clustered together, like stars across the sky.

Pinefrost trudged forward, ears pricked, tail low, pawsteps quiet as she could manage. Even her breathing was quiet.

Too quiet. She kept moving up stream, swift through the field. The ground underpaw was dry, crunchy. The grass had been burnt away. As she felt the ground rise to a slope, she could hear a whisper. Her heart began to pound, thumping away in her ears. One paw in front of the other, she slunk forward, not even daring to slide her claws out in case they made a noise. Then a familiar scent- rich and herby. Her heart stopped.

“Sedgenose!” Pinefrost yowled.

“StarClan!” The medicine cat leapt in the air with a shriek.

“Sedgenose! It’s me!” She rushed forward, bumping into a warm, solid mass, purring vigourously.

“Great StarClan, you scared me,” she breathed, rubbing her forehead against Pinefrost’s neck. She was shaking.

“I’ve never been so glad to see another cat,”

She pulled back, trying to judge Sedgenose’s face as she stared at her. She didn’t speak. Pinefrost could feel her trembling.

“What is it?”

“It’s Orchidpaw-“

“Orchidpaw?” Pinefrost jerked her head around, straining to see in the dark, her heart racing in the back of her mouth “where? What’s happened?”

“Pinefrost, she’s injured, badly,” Sedgenose rasped

Pinefrost blinked.

“What?”

“The fire- oh StarClan you should see it- she needs shelter, quickly, I fear the night will be too cold for her-“ Sedgenose broke off with a voice that cracked under pressure.

_Shelter._

The badger sett. Pinefrost’s mind was racing too fast for her to keep up.

_But WoodClan_ \- she swallowed thickly. 

Would WoodClan turn away an injured apprentice and a medicine cat?

Pinefrost stared at Sedgenose, hunched miserably over a tiny grey lump.

Did _WoodClan_ deserve a medicine cat’s help?

_Everything you do, do for CreekClan_ , she thought.

Pinefrost heard the shuddering breath from Orchidpaw and her heart was gripped with pain.

“There’s a badger sett-“ she began, and then stopped. This felt like dangerous territory- treading water in a swift current that could sweep them all away.

“Where?” Sedgenose’s mew was desperate, and Pinefrost knew she couldn’t back down.

“Back there,” Pinefrost gestured vaguely with her tail, “but- but there’s WoodClan cats in there, I just escaped them,”

“Escape? Did they keep you captured?”

“Not really but- do you want to be around WoodClan cats?”

Sedgenose’s eyes reflected in the dark. There was a hard set to her jaw as she spoke,

“I want what’s best for Orchidpaw.” She mewed firmly. “And whats best is a den,”

Pinefrost grimaced and nodded.

“Come on, I’ll carry her,”

She could hear Sedgenose’s apprehension- the sudden hitch of worried breath- but she stepped aside, tail leading Pinefrost to were the apprentice was crumpled against the ground.

Pinefrost bent her neck, letting Sedgenose slip the tiny apprentice over her shoulders. She instantly retched at the feeling of cold, smooth skin sliding over her back; wet and sticky. Her throat tightened and she fought back a gag.

“Did the fire get her?”

“And the fighting-“ Sedgenose trailed away, her voice growing distant.

Pinefrost cleared her throat, grunting with effort as she stood tall,

“Make sure she doesn’t fall,” she braced her shoulders, tensed her haunches. Orchidpaw was dangled across her back, folded like a leaf. She was heavy, dead weight, and Pinefrost staggered under the weight.

“Which way?” Sedgenose’s voice was muffled by fur; she had her teeth gingerly gripping Orchidpaw’s scruff, keeping her head up at an awkward angle as Pinefrost lurched forward. Half-shuffling, half-walking, Pinefrost

“Further-“ was all she could gasp out. Orchidpaw’s wet body was pressing down on her ribs. She could feel blood. She didn’t want to think about it. She staggered along the pathway until she saw the faint outline of the rock. Her claws flexed as she reached the hollow's slope, and she braced for a fight. 

She slid into the sett with a thunk, ears swivelling for soung. Nothing yet. Orchidpaw whimpered on her back.

“You’re back,” a mew broke the silence and made her jump out of her skin. The molly was sat in front of her, eyes unreadable, ears pricked.

Pinefrost’s claws shot out and she gave a growl.

“Back off WoodClan,”

There was the sound of dirt shifting, ash underpaw, and Pinefrost braced herself. Orchidpaw shifted on her shoulders.

“You sneak off and then bring back your dying Clanmates? Typical CreekClan,” Gravelpelt’s deep mew shook through her, and Pinefrost could only growl.

_What in StarClan’s name was I thinking?_ She had a medicine cat and an injured apprentice to protect, and here she was leading them right into a fox’s den of angry warriors. _How could I expect WoodClan cats to be reasonable?_

Sedgenose pressed against Pinefrost’s side; she was shaking. Pinefrost swallowed the fear that bubbled up inside her, hot and painful,

“Say that to my face again fox-heart, I’ll claw the rest of your pelt off,”

“You’re not welcome back here,” Gravelpelt rasped. Pinefrost could hear the pain in his mew and a bolt of confidence made her claws sink deeper into the ground.

“Hey wait a moment-“ the grey molly stepped in front of her Clanmate, but Pinefrost shouldered her aside.

“Why not?” Pinefrost hardened her voice and squashed her fear, “Sedgenose and Orchidpaw will stay in my den until morning,”

There was silence.

“I forbid it,” the tom mewed. “Take another step-”

“Gravelpelt, listen-“

“She can’t just walk into our camp-“

“She’s a medicine cat.” A brown and white tom mewed evenly. His eyes were hard, studying Sedgenose suspiciously. His tail was bushed out as he padded forward from the den.

The grey molly turned her head, eyes alighting with delight.

“Sedgenose- right?”

“Yes, that’s me,”

“Blackwillow spoke of you,” she nodded, then glanced back at her Clanmates,

“Gravelpelt we need a medicine cat,” the brown tom glowered at his Clanmate.

Gravelpelt paused. His jaw was a hard line, ears flat against his head, tail swinging through the air in a menacing arc. His Clanmate didn’t back down,

“What about Cuckoopaw?” There was a faint hint of a snarl in his voice.

“She’ll be fine,”

“She’ll die without care,” Houndpelt countered, ears flattening.

Pinefrost’s stomach twisted again, cold claws ripping through her. Panic fluttered in her heart. Would Gravelpelt really send them all away? She flexed her claws.

Pinefrost felt Sedgenose’s tail brush against her hind legs- a warning to stay quiet. Gravelpelt swung his head to flare his nostrils at the brown tom. His eyes were slits.

“Fine,” he spat. Pinefrost could see the tension in his shoulders as he carefully evaluated Sedgenose with narrowed eyes. His fur was raised along his spine, rippling in fearful waves. 

“She can stay,” he mewed eventually. “Not her Clanmates,”

“What?” Pinefrost jerked her head forward. Orchidpaw slipped on her back, and she stopped to steady herself.

“Gravelpelt you can’t! Look at that apprentice!” Woolycloud padded forward,

Woolycloud reached over with her tail, then halted half way, swiped it away. Pinefrost growled.

Even the brown tom looked horrified as Gravelpelt turned his nose up.

“You can’t turn them away now,”

“You think Sunstar will be happy to see us sheltering CreekClan?” Gravelpelt snapped.

Sedgenose raised her chin before either of his Clanmates or Pinefrost could answer.

“I’m not staying if they can’t,”

Would WoodClan attack a medicine cat? Pinefrost didn’t know. She held her breath as Gravelpelt stared at her, the whites of his eyes showing as his pupils flickered.

Then he gave a gruff nod,

“You will come and look at our wounds before you sleep,”

Pinefrost paused. She flexed her claws again. Her pelt itched. _Did WoodClan just back down?_

She glanced at Sedgenose- breathing hard, her ears still pinned to the back of her head- and sighed.

_At least we have some place to sleep tonight._

“I’ll be as quick as I can,” Sedgenose touched her nose to Pinefrost’s forehead and she leant up into the touch- not realising she was shaking with fright.

“But-“

“Keep Orchidpaw warm,” she pulled back, eyes shining with worry, “don’t lick her wounds, but try keep her clean, okay?”

Pinefrost blinked. Her stomach writhed at the thought of touching Orchidpaw’s open sores but she swallowed, nodded, and padded towards the apprentice as Sedgenose cautiously padded to the WoodClan warriors. One eye one Sedgenose, Pinefrost carefully picked up Orchidpaw’s scruff in her teeth. She whimpered, and Pinefrost’s heart was stabbed with pain.

“I’ll be careful,” she whispered through a mouthful of acrid fur. She managed to get Orchidpaw to the mouth of the den before she put her back down, staring at the hard floor with a frown. _At least try make it comfortable_ , Pinefrost dug her claws into the earth and scraped at it. It was sandy, rough; clogging between her claws.

“Until then, we will stay here, wait for our Clanmates,” she heard Gravelpelt murmur as she dragged Orchidpaw to the den. She looked over, watching Sedgenose carefully flit between the warriors.

“What about hunting?” Woolycloud pressed.

“You can hunt for yourself, can’t you?” Gravelpelt grunted back.

Pinefrost stopped and stared. She watched the WoodClan cats for as long as she felt comfortable- only a few jumpy heartbeats- and then ignored it, continued digging a scoop in the ground for Orchidpaw to sleep in. Her fur tingled and grew uncomfortably itchy. Something about them was off.

Shaking it off, she nudged Orchidpaw gently.

“Come on, it’ll do for now,” she mewed softly. Like a newborn deer, staggering and frail, Orchidpaw lifted herself off the ground. Tried to. She managed to scoot herself, barely a mouselength off the ground, into the dip.

“There you go,” Pinefrost mewed comfortingly, nosing her pelt.

“Pinefrost?” Orchidpaw rasped, raising her head to stare ahead of her. Pinefrost swallowed; she wasn’t looking at her, her eyes were crusted shut with some weepy, pale fluid.

“Right here,” she shuffled over to stand in front of Orchidpaw, placed a paw over her forelegs and gave her a pat.

There was silence. Orchidpaw’s breath was ragged, shallow.

“I’ll go get Sedgenose-“

“I’m cold,”

Pinefrost winced, stopped in her tracks. Sedgenose was busy, she could look after Orchidpaw herself.

Tentatively, Pinefrost stepped over her and settled down; dry black fur against slick, bloody grey. Her throat twinged, she pushed down a gag as she carefully maneuvered herself to curl around Orchidpaw and not press against the wounds along her back. What had done those? She wondered, as she saw the long, straight marks on the ridge of her spine, glistening in the dark. A falling branch? She tried not to think about it.

She tucked her head into her chest fur and ignored the wet feeling along her side. Orchidpaw needed warmth. She needed to survive the night. Tail over her flank- Pinefrost gave a mew of goodnight, and tried to sleep.

She couldn’t, but at least Orchidpaw was safe. She squeezed her eyes closed. Held her breath, tried to block out the smell of smoke and ash.

And in the darkness, Twolegplace glowed blue.


	15. Chapter 14

It was dark and warm inside her dream. The liquid blackness was moving around her, thick, wet. She blinked, and the darkness stayed the same. Something was moving besides her. She could feel it; swift and soft against her.

Suddenly, light, and Pinefrost awoke with a jolt. She blinked frantically as she stared at a dirt wall. Then it came to her, the badger sett. Orchidpaw whimpered besides her. Pinefrost sighed, tried to calm her racing heartbeat. She licked her lips. She was thirsty. But she couldn’t leave Sedgenose and Orchidpaw alone.

_They’ll be fine, you’ll be quick._ She carefully dislodged Orchidpaw from her side and got up, stretching out each leg and wincing with pain.

The hollow was quiet. The WoodClan cats were huddled next to each other by the other sen.

“Where’s that medicine cat?” Gravelpelt raised his head as Pinefrost exited the CreekClan den, but he didn’t look at her.

“Checking on Cuckoopaw,”

“Hm, wasting her time,”

Woolycloud didn’t say anything. Pinefrost stared for as long as she felt safe to do so- something was off. Not just Gravelpelt dismissing the apprentice’s wounds, but something. The way they spoke, sat, talked. Her fur itched.

_Drink first, think about how weird WoodClan are later_. She looked away and made for the river. Ash crunched beneath her paws and a guilty feeling struck her as the forest fire swept through her memory; helpless apprentice dangling from a tree, warrior fleeing to save herself. She pushed it down. CreekClan cats didn’t save WoodClan cats. _But an apprentice._ She swallowed a growl, tail sweeping the ground as she crouched to jump up the hollow. _Even when your Clan’s at peril you can’t be loyal._

Great StarClan, could her thoughts shut up for a moment?

The climb up the hollow’s wall was undignified, lumbering, but she managed. Her shoulder began to ache. She stared at the river as she padded down the slope towards it. If there’s moss, _I’ll bring back some water for Orchidpaw._

She winced with pain, shoulder throbbing, as she pushed herself towards it. Camp closed off behind her and Pinefrost slipped down onto the beach.

She crouched on the stones, paws sliding on the wet rock, and lapped the water. The cool water sent shivers through her body and she gave a purr of relief. She brushed droplets from her whiskers and sat back, staring blankly at her foggy view of the opposite side.

CreekClan territory was grey. A blurry smear on the blackened landscape. Deep in the forest, embers glowed on thick trees and thin wisps of smoke spiralled from the burnt wood. tasted the air, an unfamiliar scent. Not like the fresh greenleaf aroma, or the musk of leafbare, but like earth. Her mouth tingled. The air seemed to crackle, like a storm had passed. She pricked her ears, was the Great Light just that? A storm? Like the one that destroyed the Lightning Tree.

Pinefrost looked around and strained to listen, ears pricked to detect the slightest sound. Her fur rippled with unease as she listened. It was quiet, she realised with a sickening jolt. Last time she had been stood on the other side of the river, birds sung, a seagull screeched, a rabbit splashed in the marsh. Her ears searched for noise. Her heart began to quicken. No birdsong, no rain, no rabbits thumping in the bracken, no distant rumble of thunder. Quiet.

Shaking her head, Pinefrost felt her vision focus, just slightly, and she stared at the river. Black logs bobbed past, crumbling away as the current drove them towards Twolegplace. A sickly film of ash coated the water. Pinefrost dabbed a paw in the water, watching curiously as a filmy layer swirled on the surface. It makes you sick. She wiped her paw on the stones and sat, watching the river, waiting for- something. She couldn’t put her paw on it, but unease crept up on her, like she was being watched. Something heavy floated past, something orange and furry. Pinefrost stared in horror as a body drifted past her. Its fur was burnt away, its mouth open as it swirled past her, whisker-lengths away from the shoreline. She stumbled backwards in alarm, sending stones sliding down to the water.

“Is that a fox?” A mew broke the silence.

A jolt of fright shot through Pinefrost and she jerked her head up, water spraying from her whiskers.

“Easy,” the tom rasped. He was dark brown with white patches, and had a scowl fierce enough to turn a badger to stone. One of his ears was ripped, the tip torn away, the other was folded over, collapsed. Scars littered his sagging muzzle, and patches of exposed skin, which weeped with pin-pricks of red blood, glistened along his flanks. A fresh claw mark split his nose, and several of his whiskers had been plucked out like feathers from a bird.

Pinefrost looked back at the river, the body had gone.

“I’m not sure,” her stomach cramped with unease. Fox? Cat? Fox? Her mind whirled. Her skin prickled. She glanced at the tom, edgy at his presence. The faint scent of WoodClan sent her pelt prickling, like ants were crawling across her fur.

“Stay over there, WoodClan,” Pinefrost hissed weakly. Terror still churned inside her. She was still the only CreekClan warrior, she had a medicine cat and a sick apprentice to protect; could she trust these WoodClan cats? Her instincts gnawed at her, suspicion raising its ugly head inside.

“With pleasure,” the tom growled back. Pinefrost stared at him for a heartbeat, he looked familiar, “I’ve seen you before, you coward,”

Pinefrost snapped her head up and faced the tom, bristling with sudden fury; all her worry and anxiety rushed forward in panger.

“Coward?” She snapped. She met his violet-blue eyes, boiling with stoic fury.

“You watched Cuckoopaw hang from that tree, and did nothing,”

Pinefrost bared her teeth in a snarl, but guilt dampened her anger. That cat was an apprentice. For a heartbeat she saw the burning birch again, the defenceless apprentice swaying from its branches, yowling for help, the brown and white tom sprinting towards it; while she trembled fox-lengths away. She swallowed.

“I had to save myself!” She dropped her gaze and flattened her ears. I did what was right. If I wasn’t alive, who would protect Sedgenose and Orchidpaw?

“Besides,” Pinefrost swished her tail across the stones and pushed down the shame that smouldered inside, “you were there,” she stuck her chin up and forced a confident growl, “you saved her didn’t you?” Houndpelt, she remembered, the apprentice’s pitiful cry echoing in her mind.

“Barely,” Houndpelt grunted. Pinefrost looked away and stared at her reflection in the grey water. Her ears were ripped, her whiskers burnt, her one eye weeping and cloudy- almost white. She shivered and glanced at the scratches along her side. The battle had taken a toll on her, and then the fire drained her- how would a tiny apprentice cope?

“Barely,” she echoed. Her heart twinged with guilt, and then she shook her head. Why did she care about the enemy? Her claws twitched. Without a word, she got to her paws and began to pad back to camp. Nausea boiled in her stomach. Hot and guilty, Pinefrost pushed through the ash as quietly as she could.

Wind rustled the grass, flakes of ash flew around her. She tripped on a rut of earth and gave a yelp. Trying not to betray the pain that shot from her wrenched shoulder, she staggered to her paws and headed into camp; slipping down the ledge and into the hollow.

_Barely._ She had to do something, get her mind off it. Her paws itched. She had to get out, she couldn’t stay here.

_Hunting. Or find my Clanmates._ She looked for Sedgenose, the medicine cat would agree. More Clanmates makes us more safe.

Gravelpelt was slumped over besides the rock, Woolycloud hovering nervously nearby. The hollow was silent. Before she could reach her den, Sedgenose approached her.

“How’s the shoulder?”

“Good,” Pinefrost answered, then she lowered her voice and leaned in, “I think I should look for our Clanmates,”

“But you can’t cross the river!”

“I know,” she hissed, “I’m going to search WoodClan’s territory,”

Sedgenose stared at her and Pinefrost pushed down the fear that roiled inside her.

“Don’t,” she mewed.

Pinefrost stared.

“What?”

“I spoke with Gravelpelt-“

“You talked to them?” Pinefrost began angrily.

“Listen to me,” Sedgenose snapped, “we are stuck here, together, whether we like it or not, so we will behave,”

Pinefrost frowned. She hated that Sedgenose was right- she knew it as well, even before Sedgenose verbalised it- that ugly thought that she would have to tolerate WoodClan. She flicked her tail. What could she do about it? She had to ignore their enemy, her enemy, to keep Sedgenose safe. Somehow, that was wrong.

“I’m CreekClan, not WoodClan, I’ll listen to CreekClan cats only,”

“Well then listen to me,” Sedgenose pleaded, “don’t risk our safety,”

Pinefrost didn’t speak.

“Don’t go into the forest, I have no idea what happened, but the fire could still be going, okay? It’s dangerous,” she suddenly gripped Pinefrost’s chin with a paw, eyes hard, “listen, you’re a warrior, act like one. Hunt. Downstream, don’t cause any territorial disputes while you’re at it.”

“We’re not searching for our Clanmates?” Orchidpaw’s mew alerted Pinefrost and she glanced at her.

She was awake, shuffling out of the den with her eyes stretched wide. Her fur was coated in ash and her nose and eyes were watering. Burn scars tangled with her patchy pelt, knotted and raised, but were healing. She looked alert, worried.

“Why?” She rasped.

“Because Gravelpelt thinks-,”

“Because he’s worried about us getting injured in the forest,” Sedgenose said, much gentler than Pinefrost, as she nosed the apprentice’s pelt.

“But- Baypaw, Chickpaw!” She gave a squeak as Sedgenose placed a cold paw on her flank.

“I’m sure they’re fine,” She muttered.

“But-“ Orchidpaw’s pelt rippled with worry and her tail curled up against her flank.

“We have to hunt first,” Sedgenose whispered, and then glanced back at Pinefrost, a question in her clear green eyes.

Pinefrost paused. Would Gravelpelt throw out Sedgenose and Orchidpaw if she searched the forest for her Clan?

No, he needs a medicine cat.

“I’m not going to let him hurt any of us,” she stared at Sedgenose, and then walked away. She had to.

Behind her anger, fear lingered. She was going out. She was going into the forest. She didn’t wait for a reply. More Clanmates meant more paws; more paws meant an easier hunt. She didn’t hear Sedgenose protest.

Pinefrost felt a tremble of fear as she pushed through the dead grass around camp and into the grey wasteland. Her heart pounded with fear but her paws kept moving.

She slipped through the chalky grass, barely daring to breathe as the still meadow closed around her.

Nothing moved and nothing stirred. She was the only living thing in the grassland, and, with a creeping feeling crawling up her spine, picked up her pace. She kept her eyes focused on the space just in front of her, barely daring to look to the sides. The open space made her heart hammer in fear.

The flat, wide swath of grey, like an untouched expanse of murky water, swirled around her. It was neither hot or cold, but still; no breeze. She shivered in the silence- not sleeplike- but deathlike. She hurried forward, trying to reach the trees.

Her pawsteps ruffled the remaining scorched grass, kicking up clouds of ash. It tickled her nose, and she veered towards the river, climbing the gentle slope towards WoodClan territory. Through the smoke, dark, straight trees lined the horizon ahead of her, and she hurried forward, dizzy with hunger.

_I can’t cross the river unless I want to swim_. She stared across the sliding water with a prick of anger. She’d have to cross at the fallen pine; right over the gorge.

Slowing, Pinefrost opened her jaws to scent the air. Again, that unnaturally fresh smell coated the roof of her mouth. Crisp and light, almost refreshing. She snapped her jaws closed and listened. Only the crunch of dead grass under her paws and the crackle of the wind through dead branches answered back. Her senses stretched out, aching for something, anything. Birdsong or fox bark, mewling kits or snarling warriors, mouse squeaks or the clumsy thumping of a rabbit. Heart racing, she stopped, and called out, but her voice was sucked into the silence.

She suppressed a shiver. Nothing.

She walked on, pushing up the slope to the forest ahead. A few pawsteps ahead of her was a thin, black line of soot, and stared. The fire had ravaged everything beyond, the ground was barren, the trees were stripped of bark and leaves. The wind must had kept the fire back, she reasoned, shivering at the memory. Her fur prickled as she crossed the boundary. The feeling of the dirt against her pawpads made her bones cringe.

WoodClan land was as silent as the fields. The trees here were low lying, once leafy, squatting around rolling earth. As she entered the forest, her fur rose with unease. This was unfamiliar territory, and the smell of smoke made her edgy. Her whole body tensed up as she crested a ridge and stared across the woodland. The lush forest had gone. Corpses of trees stood, black and charred, amongst fallen branches and mounds of ash. Smoke filtered between them, like clouds in a white sky.

Pinefrost gave a sob as she gazed at the abhorrent destruction. Her heart twinged with pain and then numbness rushed to cover her. It’s just WoodClan’s forest, she thought as she put a paw down on the ashy ground. Even the topsoil seemed as if it was burnt, rasping against her raw paws. She had to keep searching. She scrambled over a fallen branch, ash rubbing off onto her pelt as she climbed. She landed with a puff of ash showering her and hurried forward. The ground was dipped, and she felt herself slipping into a track, a trail that led snugly between the rows of tree stumps and burnt bushes.

_A pathway_. She thought, feeling the well worn earth beneath her paws. This was the heart of WoodClan’s territory, and this was their main path.

She glanced over her shoulder, fur prickling. Enemy territory, she felt as if something was lurking over her shoulder, her whole body tense with the apprehension of something. But what? How could anything sneak up on her here?

The forest was levelled. She could see in every direction, even with the lingering smoke. Sound carried. Scent would be obvious. Nothing could hide, but she still felt like something was hidden; just beyond that stump, or that branch, or that mound of ash.

_You’re being paranoid._

Her paws slid over the burnt earth, and she peered through the pale smoke for signs of prey. There has to be something, she thought, crushing the dread that snuck up on her, tightening her throat. A huge chestnut tree loomed ahead of her, beyond a row of stiff junipers. Its branches had been burnt away, leaving four twisted arms reaching into the clouds. Fractal patterns of white, burnt bark covered its hollow bough, like frost on rocks, and wisps of smoke danced from flickering embers. As she rounded its wide bough, she stared at the owl hole in its middle, the mouse holes under its roots.

_Apprentices might have had their first hunt here._ Her heart ached. She scented the air, disappointed to only taste ash. She couldn’t get that reek out her scent glands, it seemed to be part of her now. She shook her head and focused. What advice would Campiontail give? She stopped and tried to imagine her mentor.

_Cover more ground, head to a higher place to see more_. She pushed forward, fuelled by new energy. Soot swirled around her as she trotted, heading deeper into the sparse forest. Pricking her ears, she listened intently; the wind rattling dead branches above her, the soft crunch of charcoal under her paws, the river rumbling through the gorge far away. She shook her head, focus on the forest!

She listened. Nothing, still nothing. Horror made her blood run cold.

This was the depths of the forest, surely, something had to sound. Did nothing survive the fire? Fur prickling with fear, she carried on, deeper into WoodClan’s territory. The scorched trees thickened as she ventured deeper into the alien landscape of ash and debris; Deeper, still, into the forest. Where was WoodClan’s camp? Had she passed it by accident? The cliffs were almost above her, and the distant rumble of the gorge crept closer with every step.

She could see it now, as she veered off the path and towards the river. The sudden drop, visible through the piles of ash, made her frighteningly dizzy. Pawstep by pawstep she edged closer to the gorge, peering through the mist of smoke to try and see the tree bridge.

The sharp cliffs were barren and pale white, the grass and clover scorched away. Rock crumbled from their sides down into the black river, foaming and churning endlessly- but no bridge. Pinefrost didn’t dare to get too close to the exposed cliff top, and lingered besides a hollow elm.

_It’s gone._ Her throat began to close. It’s gone! She stared across the gap, too wide to ever jump, and her heart pounded in her ears as she fought to realise the truth.

There was no way back to CreekClan territory.

Even this close, she couldn’t get there. She could see it, grey and black and burnt, but she couldn’t get there. Turning tail, Pinefrost fled back into the relative shelter of the burnt trees and regained her breath. No there has to be a way. She could swim. Maybe the river was shallower towards Twolegplace.

She cleared her thoughts and forced herself to focus. She would find a way. They must have escaped.

Returning to the path, Pinefrost began searching for prey again. And, far up the path, something lay ahead of her. She picked up her pace, a jolt of terror bursting through her. It was small, round. As she drew closer, she sighed in relief. In the middle of the path was a black mound. It was a bird, burnt and mangled, but still a bird.

_Do I really take crowfood?_ She sniffed at the blackbird and her whole body recoiled at the acrid smell. Did the fire get it? She gave the bird another tentative sniff. That strangely fresh smell lingered around her, crackly and wet. Surely it could have just flown away.

Her stomach growled loudly and she pushed her concern away. The poor thing must have been caught in the fire, trapped by smoke and the rushing wind. She couldn’t afford not to eat just because it smelt a bit off; and I definitely can’t go back empty pawed!

Pinefrost picked up the bird, clasping her teeth around its wing. Its charred feathers crumbled in her mouth. Black flakes coated her tongue and she recoiled at the dry taste, almost dropping it.

_I should see if there’s anything else_. She looked around, peering through the blue tinted smoke and coils of dead bramble.

She let her senses wander, seeking movement, scents or sights, in the grey landscape. She could feel something, and her skin crawled with unease. Glancing side to side,

A twig snapped and she leapt backwards in fright. She glanced down, no, that wasn’t her. She let go of the blackbird and dropped into a crouch, fur spiking, fear racing through her.

A shape moved ahead of her in the smoke.

Her claws scraped the ground and she tensed, ready to spring. The shape lurched forward.

“Pinefrost?” A voice croaked. Pinefrost froze. There was silenced, and a cat appeared in the mist, “help me, Pinefrost,”


	16. Chapter 15

Pinefrost stumbled backwards in disgust.

The shape lumbered towards her and she was trapped with fear. This wasn’t a cat. This cats face had melted away, the fur gone, revealing raw flesh that looked like a mass of earthworms. Its eye was exposed, glassy and grey inside the red socket; its pupil was deformed, oozing through the coloured iris. Specks of blood pricked its raw skin, welling up and merging together.

Its jaw was burnt away, baring broken teeth and pink, fleshy gums. Its nose was gone, only two holes in the muzzle showed where it had been. It had one shredded ear, and one terror-filled eye.

“Pinefrost,” the cat croaked. Pinefrost blinked, startled, and forced herself to face the truth.

“Campiontail,” she whispered. She couldn’t bring herself to feel relief at seeing her mentor, not like this.

“Campiontail,” she repeated, and stumbled to her paws, “come back to camp,” she forced herself to speak, “Sedgenose can treat you,”

She cautiously placed a paw on Campiontail’s shoulder to balance her, and when she pulled back, a chunk of fur came off with it. Pinefrost gagged. Campiontail whimpered and her legs trembled.

“Let me help you,” she mewed, trying to avoid touching the raw wounds along her side. She picked up the blackbird, holding its frail body as best as she could with Campiontail leaning on her.

She could feel wetness oozing from Campiontail’s pelt and retched with disgust.

“Don’t worry,” Pinefrost took a shaky step forward, her stomach clenching as Campiontail cast her a desperate look, “it’s not far,”

Her weight rested on Pinefrost’s shoulder and flank, and with achingly slow, unsteady steps, they made it out of the forest and onto the grasslands.

Campiontail gasped as the wind buffeted her raw sides. Her teeth clenched.

“The camp’s sheltered,”

“Sedgenose,” Campiontail rasped, her voice dry as sandstone, “she made it,”

Pinefrost struggled to talk with the blackbird in her jaws, the nausea closing her throat up as she saw Campiontail's fleshy face moving to talk,

“Yeah,” she managed.

“Who else?” She struggled to walk, and Pinefrost’s paws buzzed with impatience. She had to get back. She had to see Sedgenose.

“Orchidpaw, and some WoodClan cats,” she heard Campiontail’s faint growl as she curled her tail up.

“Can’t be helped,” Campiontail rasped, “those cunning foxhearts would survive anything,” she gave a hacking cough, and then spat bright blood onto the dirt. Pinefrost’s stomach clenched sharply. She didn't say anything, just continued to lead her mentor down the slope, focusing on the path, not the bleeding skin, gnarled burns, and empty eye socket. She felt sick to her stomach.

Her heart leapt as she finallu saw the jutting rock of camp.

Pinefrost dove through the ash, her heart pounding in her chest faster than a racing hawk, and flung the blackbird into the centre of camp, taking a deep breath to yell,

“Sedgenose! I found Campiontail!” she felt herself tremble with emotion as Sedgenose skidded out of the den, her eyes wide.

Before the medicine cat could speak, Woolycloud leapt down from the rocks, her fur spiked in every direction.

“You found someone?” She glanced back at Gravelpelt, “we must send search parties! Our Clanmates are still out there!”

“And in bad shape,” Pinefrost swallowed as she looked into Sedgenose’s shimmering eyes. She felt Campiontail take her first uneven steps into camp and rest against her, shaking. Woolycloud tipped her head,

“Bad shape? What- Oh, StarClan,” her eyes bulged with fear and her fur raised as she saw Campiontail. Pinefrost gave a growl and stepped in front of her former mentor protectively. _I promised to protect CreekClan._

Campiontail sat with a thud. Blood was leaking from the thin scabs on her skin. Her eyes unfocused as she gazed into the sky.

“Campiontail!” Sedgenose pushed herself between Campiontail and Pinefrost and stood frozen.

“I should make nests for survivors,” Woolycloud mewed,

_Survivors?_ Pinefrost’s belly clenched. She looked away, and then back to where Sedgenose was leading Campiontail into the badger set. Her heart stung.

_How many more of my Clanmates are like that?_ She gazed back towards the forest, still hazy with smoke, and her worry grew, then anger replaced it; _Gravelpelt was so against searching! How can he be now?_

“Pinefrost, we’re putting the injured in your den, it’s the biggest, you’ll have to share with us tonight,”

Pinefrost’s fur prickled. _Sleeping with WoodClan cats_ , she pushed down a growl, _I’d rather sleep with a badger._

“Now that you’ve found Campiontail,” she began with a cautious look to the sett, “there’s a chance we can find more of our Clanmates, we need more room,”

Woolycloud padded closer towards Pinefrost, desperation in her eyes, “we have to send a patrol to hunt for survivors-“

“No,” Gravelpelt’s sharp growl stopped her in her tracks, “we stay here,”

Instantly Pinefrost’s head jolted up.

“Don’t you care about your Clanmates?” She hissed, tail lashing across the dirt.

“I care about being able to feed the one’s already here!” Gravelpelt snapped back. He pushed himself up with his forepaws, wincing, “if our Clanmates have survived, they will be in groups like ours, will will find them later,” he mewed decisively. Woolycloud stared him down, her eyes flashing with contempt, but she didn’t speak.

_Gravelpelt only cares about himself!_ Pinefrost thought with a twitch of her tail. She flexed her claws as the tom lumbered forward to face her.

“At least let me send a patrol to camp,” Woolycloud mewed softly after a long, heavy silence.

“It’s too dangerous,” Gravelpelt broke off with a cough, not even turning his head to meet her, “the forest is still burning,”

“You saw that CreekClan cat, what about our Clanmates?” Woolycloud pleaded.

“Our Clanmates will be fine, we need to worry about ourselves for now and wait for Sunstar,” with great effort he hauled himself to his paws. Tufts of grey fur littered the ground where he’d been sat.

He then swung his head around to face Pinefrost, and she felt a stab of fear as she saw the rage in his eyes.

“And you-“ he began with a wheeze. Pinefrost cut in before he could speak.

“I went hunting,” She flicked her tail towards the blackbird lying at the edge of the clearing and ignored him.

“That’s not it,” his growl cut through her. “You’re hunting on our territory, you’ll pay when Sunstar returns. I forbid you from going out again.”

Pinefrost squared her shoulders. Her mind raced. She couldn’t sense Houndpelt anywhere, or any other hidden WoodClan warriors. Her against Gravelpelt; she could manage. Would Woolycloud dive in to save her Clanmate? She didn’t know.

“I don’t take orders from you, I will hunt for my Clan," she growled.

“Stay off _our_ land,” Gravelpelt spat. Pinefrost gave him a once-over. He was leaning on one side, his one paw was curled up in pain. Pinefrost gave another snarl,

“Yeah like I’d listen to a selfish-“

“Selfish? You’re selfish, you only care about what you think-”

“I care for my Clanmates fleabag, does WoodClan not teach loyalty?” Pinefrost’s claws scraped the dirt.

“Loyalty? You want to talk to _me_ about loyalty mange-breath?”

Woolycloud darted between them, her tail fluffed.

“Don’t!” She looked at Pinefrost, then Gravelpelt, then Pinefrost again, her head swinging between them, eyes flickering with worry. Pinefrost backed down, she respected Woolycloud just enough to not claw her. Barely.

“I sent Houndpelt hunting, have something to eat when he returns, and then we can discuss territory,”

“There is nothing to discuss, traitor. You have no right to allow a CreekClan cat to be hunting on our land-“

“And let them starve?”

“Sunstar will hear about this-“

Woolycloud raised her chin and stared Gravelpelt directly in the eye- and then it hit Pinefrost. What had been so _off_ about the WoodClan cats, the _something_ that made her fur crawl; they didn’t look each other in the eye, just at the space around them.

“Sunstar’s not coming back,” she mewed.

Gravelpelt took a step forward.

“How dare-“

“You can’t fight your Clanmate!” Pinefrost spat out, shocked. She halted between them, feeling Gravelpelt’s rancid breathing ruffle her fur. Her heart was leaping out of her mouth- this wasn’t how it was supposed to be.

“I know you were raised under a rock Woolycloud, but this isn’t how highrank warriors behave,” he spat.

_High rank?_ Pinefrost whipped her head around to Woolycloud. Her green eyes were blazing.

“You’re not supposed to fight!” She repeated, desperately staring between them.

“You will not disobey me, you will not speak for WoodClan, I am the deputy of WoodClan, you hear? And you-“ he swung his head around to Pinefrost, “your medicine cat is very useful to me, so she will not be hurt, but don’t think for a second I will not claw you or that apprentice,”

Pinefrost knew she should keep her mouth shut. _For Orchidpaw_. She narrowed her eyes. _I’ll claw you one day fleabag_.

He straightened himself.

“There is no reason for any of us to do anything differently,”

“Times have changed Gravelpelt,” Woolycloud rasped. She stepped backwards. Her fur was unruffled, her tail low, and her eyes dulled. Pinefrost was baffled. Gravelpelt only gave a low, rumbling growl, before he stalked away into the den.

_What is wrong with WoodClan?_

Stupid question. She sat down with a thud and began to slowly groom her pelt, wincing every time her tongue tugged her fur. The ash around camp rustled and Houndpelt stepped out. Pinefrost felt her jaw drop. He was covered in ash, bleeding from a cut across his cheek, and dragging a half burnt hare.

“Houndpelt!” Woolycloud lunged forward to her Clanmate and gave him a brisk lick on his wounded cheek, “what happened?”

“Caught it on a branch,” he sat down and drew a paw over his face, smearing blood across his fur.

“You should be more careful,” she chided, despite the purr rumbling in her throat. The brown and white warrior pulled his head away and grunted.

Woolycloud cleared her throat.

“Pinefrost, go help Houndpelt clean up, we don’t have any herbs, and I don’t want anyone getting infections,” Woolycloud mewed with a glance at the back of the hollow, she then turned back to Pinefrost, “we’ll talk later,” she nodded before she sprang towards the badger set with the rabbit in her teeth. Gravelpelt’s nostrils flared, and he followed Woolycloud; and instantly, muffled voices rose up.

Pinefrost blinked. Help a WoodClan cat? Help _him_? She could talk to Sedgenose instead.

“I don’t need help from a CreekClan cat,” Houndpelt got to his paws when Pinefrost looked at him, hissed, and then began limping towards the river.

“Fine with me,” Pinefrost pushed past him and picked up her blackbird.

_Arrogant furball_. Her whiskers twitched with disgust as she approached the medicine cat den- her old den- and settled outside to eat. 

As burnt as it was, blackened feathers and no feet, it was still a bird. She sniffed the corpse, nosing away chunks of ash that had gathered on its singed wings.

_It doesn’t have that strange smell_ , she realised, and her stomach ached with hunger. She stared at it for a second, catching its glassy black eyes, before taking a bite.

It was tough, like chewing wood, but, almost instantly, energy flooded through her.

_StarClan, thank you for this prey_. She took another small bite. Her teeth crunched around sharp, thin bone, and she washed the ash off her face between chewing.

There was hardly any meat on its bones. Pinefrost frowned. She had to feed Campiontail, Orchidpaw, and Sedgenose; there was no way WoodClan would share their catch.

_Not that we’d take prey from WoodClan anyway!_ She swallowed her last mouthful, despite her stomach’s painful growls of protest, and picked up the bird.

“Got some fresh-kill,” she mewed through a mouthful of soot as she lingered in the entrance to the den. The sour reek of raw wounds clouded the air and she hardly dared to step into the stuffy darkness. She didn’t stay. She put the bird down and turned around, shuffling back into the hollow.

Sitting down, she stared at the sky. Her shoulder ached, but it was a dull thudding pain compared to the pounding in her head.

What was going on?

The forest had burnt down. Here she was, living with WoodClan cats, hunting in WoodClan land. Away from her Clanmates. How were they? Ouzelheart and Shellspine? Had they made it out of the fire? Baypaw? Chestnutspike?

_Dandelionfall_. She thought.

She could only laugh really. She didn’t know what to do. You do, you have to go back to camp. The forest camp. She glanced nervously across the sett towards the WoodClan cats. Woolycloud was sat away from the den, her back to Pinefrost as she groomed her paws.

Puzzled, Pinefrost could only sit and think. Did Woolycloud not- she frowned, struggling to word it. Chestnutspike. She thought. He opposed fighting WoodClan, was she like him? Pinefrost flexed her claws. Did that mean she could trust Woolycloud- for now- to not be a threat? She had asked Pinefrost to help her Clanmate, and has saved her from the river; _maybe she knows we have to help each other, just for a bit_. She scratched her claws into the ash and swallowed. She had to go into the forest and find her Clanmates, that she knew, but she didn’t want to go alone. She hated this. She glanced up. A grey marbled pelt was facing her. She could see Woolycloud’s tail twitching against the ground.

“Hey, Woolycloud,”

Pinefrost forced her fur to lie flat.

The grey molly turned her face to Pinefrost and pricked her ears- a friendly expression lighting her face as she padded back over.

“Tell me everything,” she mewed breathlessly, her fur rippling witb anxiety, “the forest- is it still on fire?”

Pinefrost narrowed her eyes. _Right._ She didn’t know where to start.

“It’s not _on_ fire,” she tried.

“How bad is it then? Are all the trees burnt down?”

Pinefrost nodded and began to tell her, her fur prickling as she recounted the destruction- the ash, the hollow trees, the clouds that never left the sky.

Woolycloud only stared back, stunned. Her green eyes brimmed with horror.

“All of it?”

“Looked like it,” a sudden urge in Pinefrost made her want to reach out and touch her tail to Woolycloud’s shoulder, but she stopped, and stayed frozen still.

_Talk._ She thought. _You want to start finding your Clanmates, but you don’t want to go alone._

Pinefrost began, cautious as a mouse creeping around a fox’s den.

“I was going to see what happened to our camp,” she trailed off, glancing at Woolycloud to see her nod slowly.

“Good, I was going to check our camp as well, but, I didn’t really want to go alone,”

Pinefrost flicked an ear, narrowed her eyes. _Okay. Now to suggest we work together._ But to her surprise, Woolycloud spoke again,

“We can go to CreekClan’s first, our’s is a bit more sheltered,” she tried. Pinefrost forced her fur to lie flat. She had to go to camp, but alone? _But with a WoodClan cat?_

She had to. She had no idea what lurked in the forest. Safety in numbers; and having Woolycloud with her would be good if she found WoodClan cats.

“Good idea, if I ran into any WoodClan cats-“

Woolycloud’s whiskers twitched.

“Oh I know how bad they can be,”

“Yeah,”

There was silence.

“Truce?” Woolycloud mewed gently.

“Don’t push your luck,”

Her whiskers twitched again.

“I’m not asking to be your best friend, just that we work together,”

Pinefrost snorted.

“What’s the goal then?”

Woolycloud paused.

“Herbs, food, find our Clanmates,”

“Will you tell Gravelpelt?”

“Hm,” Woolycloud looked away, eyes flashing. Pinefrost’s curiousity only piqued.

“He still won’t let you go to WoodClan camp?” Pinefrost flicked her tail in annoyancd. WoodClan’s territory was at least accessible, CreekClan’s was impossible to get to.

Woolycloud blinked,

“He says no one should leave, we should stay here, for now,” she repeated.

Pinefrost gave a grunt. _What is his problem?_ Surely he knew they couldn’t abandon their Clanmates. Her claws pricked the ground.

“Give him time, he’ll comes around,”

“Sure.” She flexed her claws. He was strange. _He is WoodClan, but still._ Something itched in her mind. What had he meant when he said high rank? She shook the thought away. _Don’t push your luck._

She got to her paws.

“Tomorrow morning then,” she glanced at Woolycloud, who gave a polite dip of her head.

“See you in the morning then,”

“Dawn patrol,” Pinefrost joked as Woolycloud padded off.

Pinefrost shivered again as a fresh wind swept camp and scattered ash across the ground.

Above, the clouds thickened, and Pinefrost tasted the wind; cold and sharp. She shivered. _StarClan, send us rain_.

She dragged herself towards her den, exhaustion creeping over her. Finally inside the den, Pinefrost collapsed into the shallow scoop of dirt that was her nest. Her heart ached for the soft moss of the warriors den and she folded her tail over her self.

No, that was too uncomfortable. She rolled onto her side, then her back, then twisted back around to lay with her head on her paws and stared out the den into the twilight. The camp was dark, she could barely make out Sedgenose’s medicine cat den, the silver shine of ash on the wind-swept grass.

The moonlessness made her fur prickle with unease and she squeezed her eyes shut. Still, her fur crawled. Opening her eyes again, she peered across the clearing.

In the darkness of the night, a pair of golden eyes gleamed back.


	17. Chapter 16

Pinefrost was awake before dawn. It was still dark out. Sat in the den, she waited. She felt nauseous, a creeping cold sensation that squeezed around her empty stomach; sharp pain below the ribs. Nerves, she guessed. Her head still hurt, and her shoulder was stiff, but there were things to be done. She began licking her pelt to keep her mind occupied, forcing herself to comment on the knots and whorls in her fur, and not on the state of things.

_Patrolling with a WoodClan cat._ The thought made bile rise in her throat. _It’s for CreekClan._

She had to. She couldn’t take Orchidpaw or Sedgenose out- not that Gravelpelt would let her- and she wasn’t going out into the forest alone. Pinefrost glanced around the den as she got up. Orchidpaw was tucked into Sedgenose’s side, the medicine cat’s tail wrapped around her flanks.

“Be back as soon as I can,” Pinefrost whispered. She studied Sedgenose’s narrow face for a hint that she heard- a twitch of a nose, flicker of her whiskers- but nothing.

She left silently, slipping out the den and into the hollow. The air was crisp, sending a chill down Pinefrost’s spine.

Woolycloud was sat besides the slope leading onto the field, she raised her tail as Pinefrost walked towards her.

Pinefrost didn’t drop her guard.

“Ready?” Woolycloud mewed, keeping her voice low.

She nodded.

“Houndpelt says he saw a trapped log further down the river, we can cross there,” she mewed as she got up, giving her pelt a shake. The ash that had settled on her back came off.

They set off in silence, ears pricked as they followed the river downstream. Pinefrost lead, walking as fast as her shoulder would allow. She stared down the rippling river’s surface, watching twigs and sticks and bits of ash float past her, getting caught in the eddies and branches that stuck out from the sides.

Pinefrost could hear Woolycloud’s footsteps, echoing through the empty air around them. Even the river was quiet, sliding by silently. No birds still. She shivered. She kept her ears pricked, focused on sound. It was deathly silent, all around.

As she turned the riverbend, with Woolycloud thudding behind her, she spotted it. A frail, burnt branch was caught between the opposite banks. A chestnut branch, flaking and crumbly, and swaying dangerously in the current.

“Is that it?”

“Looks so,” Woolycloud mewed from behind. Her voice carried on the still air.

Pinefrost picked up speed. Cross the river, and she’d be on CreekClan land again. She studied the branch carefully, looking for a flat surface to run along. _I’ll have to be fast._

She swallowed her fear, and leapt onto the branch without a second thought.

“Watch it!” Woolycloud yelped. She raced across the branch, feeling it dip under the surface, water lap her toes, and then sprang onto the bank. Ash and dead grass met her paws and she skidded to a halt on CreekClan territory.

She was dizzy with sudden exhilaration.

_Home! CreekClan! Dandelionfall!_

“Come on!” She gave a yowl to the other side. Woolycloud was following. Her tail twitched from side to side, and she placed paw on the peeling bark. It dipped. She moved forward.

She crossed the river in a few short bounds, and reached the bank, ready to jump off, when the branch slipped. Pinefrost lunged forward instantly and grabbed Woolycloud by the scruff. With a crash and a splash, the branch fell away and tumbled, rolled into the river, knocking them with it. She dug her claws into the bank and heaved backward. Water sprayed up, washing over them both. She hissed as the cold sprayed her.

Huffing and spluttering, Woolycloud dragged herself up onto the bank.

“Thanks,” she shook out her pelt with a scowl and then hurriedly straightened her whiskers. Her cloudy-coiled fur was slicked down on her haunches, looking even more ragged than before.

Pinefrost stood silent as Woolycloud gave her flanks a few licks, detangling leaves and mud from her fur. She shuffled her paws, glancing anxiously at the cliffs, grey in the shadows.

“Okay, lead the way, this isn’t my territory,”

Pinefrost gazed across the grey field: the flat grass, the black boughs of burnt trees, the exposed rock on the cliffs, and thought, _this isn’t mine either._ Where were the thin cypresses? The junipers? The tangles of holly and wisteria? The exhilaration came to a crashing halt as she stared at the flatland in front of her.

_They’ll grow back._

She set off hesitantly, ears pricked, footsteps light, slipping into a gentle trot like she was on patrol. Surely, familiarity would set in. Her nerves were aflame, anxiety coursing through her as she walked, Woolycloud trailing behind. Bringing the enemy onto her land; she still couldn’t bring herself to accept it. Edgy, Pinefrost began looking around to distract herself. The ash here was fine, burnt grass and weeds, the scent of fire lingered on the breeze. The ground was dry as bone, no longer the slightly wet floodplain she once hunted on.

_Nothing looks right_ , she swallowed thickly as the forest came into view- a crooked line of blackened trees. She could see the sky through their branches. A horrible feeling swamped her, _it’ll never look right again_. She shook her head and forced it down, desperately searching for something familiar.

_Look_ , she thought as she approached a swath of dirt that was cut evenly through the grass, _that’s the Twolegpath._

Another familiar sight came into view; a clustered circle of rocks, edged with blackened, tangled masses of dead twigs. Bare sand shon through the grey ash, and the wind blew clouds of it into the air. Pinefrost’s throat closed as a wave of emotion swept her. _Great StarClan, that’s the training hollow._

She looked around, her eyes drifting towards dead rows of bramble and branch. Beyond those trees, the training ground, the stream, the worn pathway through the forest and up the cliffs to camp. She began to shake. Her heart threatened to leap through her mouth.

She hadn’t realised she had stopped until Woolycloud walked past her.

“It looks so different now,” Woolycloud mewed. Pinefrost flinched; her voice was so loud in the stillness.

_Stating the obvious_. Pinefrost swallowed. A sharp pain stabbed her between the ribs and her throat ached with that awfully familiar feeling of choking up.

“Yeah,” was all she could answer. Woolycloud was stood as stiff as the cliffs, tail in the air, staring blankly across the

_She saw WoodClan territory like this too._ Pinefrost cut the thought off and looked away. She grit her teeth. There was no time for thinking like that; for _more_ disloyalty.

She set off again, forcing herself to move against the sudden dizziness. The ash clouds that swirled around her made her cough as she kept trekking towards the forest, the remains of the forest.

Pinefrost halted all of a sudden. What was she doing? Leading a WoodClan cat back to their camp? What would her Clanmates think when they found out she was heading through the forest with a WoodClan cat because she was afraid of being alone?

What if they were waiting for her at camp?

She glanced back at Woolycloud. The words dried up in her mouth. Woolycloud blinked at her, confused.

“I’m taking you to our camp,” she managed.

Woolycloud blinked. Then she tipped her head,

“I’m not going to tell my Clanmates where your camp is, if that’s what you mean,”

“How do I know that?” Suspicion made her claws itch.

“Because- do you really think that things are just going to go back to how they were?”

Pinefrost’s stomach curled. She didn’t want to think about it. She glanced back at the treeline, dark and spindly and naked.

_It has to._

She grit her teeth, ears flattening against the side of her head.

“Okay, okay,” Woolycloud sighed and stared around the tree branches, "Okay, let’s have a deal,” she began, “I won’t tell my Clanmates that I even came here, and you won’t tell your Clanmates where WoodClan camp is, deal?”

Pinefrost paused. She scuffed a paw against the dry earth.

“Warrior’s honour,” Woolycloud mewed.

Pinefrost stared. _WoodClan are warriors too, surely some of them have the same loyalty_

Pinefrost grit her teeth. If Woolycloud would keep her mouth shut, she would as well- _anything to keep CreekClan safe_ \- but how could she know? She stared at Woolycloud for a few heartbeats, then turned her head to glance upslope.

The grey wasteland loomed. She shivered. 

“Okay. Warrior’s honour,”

She flicked her tail,

“Come on then,”

Pinefrost set off warily. Her mind was racing. This wasn’t her forest.

The marshes. The stream. The oaks and elms and rowans and cherries and hollys. 

Pinefrost almost buckled to the ground as she weaved between the scorched trees.

The forest. Her forest. Gone.

From the other side of the river it was blurry, hidden from her, not quiet the full picture, she could pretend it was only the front that was gone, only a few trees and marshes and fox-lengths of land; but here, up close, right in front of her trembling paws it was as plain as the whiskers on her face.

Gone.

The stream bubbled besides her, churning with dirt and ash as it slid, filthily, to the river. Powdery flakes lifted into the air, like morning mist, as Pinefrost hurried, bounding up the forest slope to the sandstone cliffs. She sprang onto a beech, its bough slumped over a dip in the earth, and paused. Stumps dotted the ground between toothy rocks and twisted, fallen branches. There was a thick layer of ash covering everything. Even the path to camp was thick with ash, like a snowstorm had come through in the night, banks of pale grey powder choked the pathway.

“It’s this way,” she turned to Woolycloud, and saw sympathy flash in her eyes as she surveyed the forest. She looked away. She didn’t need WoodClan pity. She needed Dandelionfall. _StarClan! Let her be okay!_

“Keep an ear out for anyone,” Woolycloud set off slowly, her ears swivelling as she followed Pinefrost up the stream. 

The ash was smooth and slick underpaw, Pinefrost couldn’t feel the hard rock underneath.

_How is this real?_

She stared across the valley as she climbed, the grey, ashen valley. The clouds and ground seemed one. No verdant trees, no lush grass and secretive paths, no willows and birches or elms and chestnuts. She didn’t recognise a single living thing. This ugly, scared landscape was unfamiliar. Only the river hadn’t changed; as black and as deadly as before, reflecting the sky in its oily water. Besides its smooth meander, there was a slight dip in the ground.

“There’s the badger sett,” she mewed as Woolycloud caught up. She gave a nod.

Pinefrost gave one last, longing look over the fields. _I was so excited the first time I saw this view_ , she sighed. Now her heart was heavy with sudden dread.

She turned around and felt her paws slip into a worn channel. She knew this path. Well worn and smoothed by weather, a zig-zag treck up the cliffs. Pinefrost heard Woolycloud scrambling to catch up, as she sprang lightly up the trail. Her paws were moving faster than her mind could keep up. The path so bare, so exposed, without shadow or sunlight dappling her pelt, the leafy darkness of the forest giving her cover from eagles and hawks. She pressed her fur into the rock as she sharply turned the corner to make the final climb to camp.

Her body felt as heavy as a stone when she got to the top. Woolycloud said nothing as she hauled himself to the top and exhaled sharply, eyes hardening as she scanned the horizon. Out of the treeline, Pinefrost shivered. There was no wind, but the air was biting. She could taste that clean scent again, the one that made her mouth prickle. She raised her tail and beckoned for Woolycloud to follow.

“Long way to go,” Woolycloud panted as she followed.

“Sheltered,” Pinefrost rasped. She could see the flat rock with the waterfall, the ring of smooth stones, the corpses of destroyed pine trees around a cozy hollow.

Without waiting, she ran. Stone and ash sprayed as she pelted forward, racing forward until she stood where the brambles once grew and stared into it.

The remains of CreekClan camp.


	18. Chapter 17

_My home._

Pinefrost felt as if she was drifting away, numb and lightheaded, as she stared into hollow.

The exposed rock lay like a wound in the landscape, black and shiny under the cold light.

Without thinking, she leapt into the hollow. Ash billowed up and swirled above her head.

“Kiteheart!” She cried out, “Nightstep!” She raced forward and sprang onto the rocks that edged the pool, shouting, then splashed forward towards the nursery. The entrance was ringed with soot, fallen twigs and leaves littered the ground.

“Mallowshine! Whitespeckle!” Then she wheeled around to the elders den, “Hollytangle! Pricklepelt!” Her cries drew desperate and echoed pitifully off the bare rock.

In the centre of the pool, water washing over her, Pinefrost slumped down.

“Anyone?” She whispered. She trembled, ripples shivering across the waters surface.

It was empty.

The fire had gutted the camp. Only yew remained, crumbling and melting into the ash. There was no one here.

Pawsteps behind her told her Woolycloud was approaching; and fear scent radiated from her.

“Pinefrost-“ She began, his voice edged with terror. She turned her head to look at her, her back arched and tail fluffed out, claws scraping the rock, and followed her wide eyes to the apprentices den.

“Look,”

Under the remains of the yew tree, bodies.

Hard, black bodies.

_Oh StarClan… no._

Pinefrost leapt from the rockpool, water spraying, her paws ghosting over the grass as she approached the den. The bark crackled underpaw and the heady, choking scent of smoke burnt her throat.

_They came in here for shelter._ She swallowed thickly, bile rising in her throat as she took in the sight- the yew that covered them was completely burnt, bark stripped away, the root cave inside was torched. Claw marks etched the ground.

The biggest cat was crouched in fear, hackles raised, thigh bones poking into the air- _Shellspine? Whitespeckle?_ Pinefrost’s mind whirled.

Then she saw the two, tiny corpses, and her heart stopped. _Mallowshine_.

The queen had dragged her kits to the den to escape the fire that ravaged the top of camp. Pinefrost couldn’t look at the two small kits under her, Sandkit and Webkit, huddled under the safety of their mother for the last time. Their ears and tails were burnt away, black eyes open, tiny mouth agape and full of soot.

Pinefrost felt dizzy. She could only imagine the terror and confusion as the fire swept the camp. With all the warriors out fighting WoodClan, there would have been few strong cats to help.

Had no one stopped to help the queen flee camp? She thought of Chickpaw and Baypaw, had they escaped? Had the elders? Did she dare check?

Pinefrost squeezed her eyes shut, but the sight lingered in her mind. The black, furless face, eyes like pebbles, jaws parted in fear, frozen in time by the fire.

She felt sick.

“We should bury them,” Pinefrost looked opened her eyes and looked at Woolycloud. She felt even sicker at the thought of touching them, but she couldn’t leave them here, at the mercy of the open sky.

“I-“ Pinefrost stared. She was right. ”Yeah, we should,”

Woolycloud looked over her shoulder, her dense fur rippling with fear, and nodded. There was a patch of ash besides the yew, free of fallen twigs and burnt bark bits. Pinefrost tested the ground with a paw. It was good enough.

“Here will do,” she mewed, and began digging. The soil was rough and scratchy, and soon her paws were bleeding. Her shoulder throbbed. The world began to sway. She’d barely made a dent in the hard ground.

Then, Woolycloud jumped in. She slid her claws out and began scraping at the hard dirt. Panting and trying to catch her breath, Pinefrost stared at her bleeding paws.

_I can’t give up._ She curled her toes and winced as warm blood squished against dirt, and got back to digging.

Soon, the hole was big enough for three.

“Easy now,” Woolycloud murmured. Pinefrost looked away and turned to stare at Mallowshine, hunched over her kits.

She paused, then reached forward and took Mallowshine’s scruff in her jaws. Her teeth scraped against shiny, solid skin and she recoiled, before tentatively biting down. The hard skin broke away and shattered and Pinefrost leapt back with a shriek.

Woolycloud was frozen stiff as Pinefrost backed into her. The fur on her neck was raised, her body trembling in horror.

Hard skin. _It broke away_. She wanted to puke.

“We could- we could push her in,” Woolycloud’s voice wavered and trembled.

Pinefrost couldn’t speak. She could still feel it. The clack of a bony body under her teeth. Her teeth ached. She could taste it; earthy, like dust.

Woolycloud moved, but Pinefrost could barely register it. Her heart was racing so fast it felt like a blur in her chest, she could barely distinguish each beat that pounded in her ears.

The fire had done that. Turned a queen and her kits into rock; calcined by fire.

How hot had it been in camp?

She remembered the smoke, burnig and choking as she ran though the forest. Had Mallowshine and her kits suffocated inside the den? Desperately waiting for help?

Had the whole Clan been trapped?

A snap jerked her back to reality. Mallowshine was laid on her side in the grave, dark skin blending into dark earth. She looked over her shoulder to see Woolycloud stood at the base of the yew with her teeth in a dangling branch.

Pinefrost sat back on her haunches, guilt burning her fur. Her heart was hammering away, she was dizzy again. She watched as Woolycloud bit down on one of the fallen yew branches and began dragging it over. The twigs were spindly, breaking away as she hauled it across camp. With a nod, Pinefrost got back to her paws and craned her neck forward to bite off one of the branches. Slowly, they piled ash and twigs over the queen and her kits, a cradle of broken branches and dust, and scraped the earth back over her.

Stood at the edge of the grave, Pinefrost felt her heart crack. She looked tiny. Her kits looked tinier.

She touched her nose to Mallowshine’s cold, stiff forehead.

_StarClan, if you’re still there, please take them._

Slowly, Pinefrost backed off, and pushed the rest of the dirt back over her, until she was swallowed up, returned to the ground.

Pinefrost sat back with a sigh, exhausted. 

Her claws and pads were bleeding, raw and open.

_Why did we come here?_

She stared around camp. The walls were stained with soot.

_Herbs_ , she thought, _search for my Clanmates_. Sedgenose’s den was destroyed, the yew tree’s protective roots were gone. No scent of the Clan remained. She didn’t want to be here anymore. She wanted to get out.

“Let’s go,” Pinefrost choked. Her mind whirled. Who was dead and who was alive? Nausea washed over her and she had to stop, leaning against a rock to catch her breath.

Her heart was hammering in her chest. She couldn’t get the image of Mallowshine out her head.

She squeezed her eyes shut, feeling Woolycloud’s pawsteps against the hard ground as she padded towards the exit.

Opening her eyes again, the world pitched, and then righted itself as she blinked and let the pale light settle, and followed Woolycloud.

She stopped at the tunnel- where the tunnel had been- and pressed her body against a rock.

Camp was behind her now. She felt as if she couldn’t lift her paws to move.

_Will I ever come back?_

She couldn’t look back, she’d want to stay there forever and wait.

_I have to find Dandelionfall_. The thought hit her suddenly, like everything else, she’d avoided it for so long and now it was in front of her.

Sunstar had her pinned against the ground before Pinefrost had saved her; did she ever get away? What about the fire?

Was she getting enough to eat? Enough sleep? Was Chestnutspike or Ouzelheart with her or was she alone?

Did she know she cared?

She was halfway down the path when Woolycloud spoke from somewhere behind her.

“We can go to WoodClan in a few days, I don’t mind waiting,”

Pinefrost looked up. The tops of stripped trees were staring at her. She had numbly trudged forward and down the cliffs without realising.

She swallowed, nodded, and willed herself to speak.

Woolycloud had seen all that with her- she could see the grief in her eyes, narrow face drawn down, tail twitching against her hind legs.

“Thank you,” she rasped, throat dry as a bone, finding words between the piercing sharp pain in her heart, “for helping me bury Mallowshine,”

Woolycloud glanced up, a little surprised.

“In WoodClan, we always take care of the dead,”

Pinefrost felt a flash of annoyance, but only brief. She didn’t mean it like that, she thought. _Only to prove she’s_ \- that she was what? Pinefrost frowned, struggled, and the thought continued- _just like us._

The thought still made her skin tighten and prickle uncomfortably. WoodClan cats, just like her.

She didn’t want the silence, but didn’t know what to say. Thankfully, Woolycloud broke it again, as they crossed the stream and stepped into the copse of dead trees.

“What are we going to do?” Her voice carried well in the empty space. Pinefrost still couldn’t adjust to how loud it was; her ears felt sore.

“About?” she asked. _About this_. She waited for Woolycloud to explain; she felt awkward trying to put it into words. CreekClan and WoodClan, working together.

“Well, Gravelpelt wants to wait for Sunstar,” she began, “he thinks Sunstar will come back for us,”

Pinefrost tipped her head. There was a spiteful note to her mew; the way she said _come back for us_ , full of sarcasm, made her curious. Would Sunstar not be looking for his warriors? She knew Cranestar must be scouring the forest for her.

That was the one thing that made her fur creep about WoodClan- they didn’t seem to respect each other, or even like each other.

“What do you think?” She asked, cautious. WoodClan’s weirdness was none of her business, she had to focus on CreekClan again.

Woolycloud flicked an ear,

“Survive. If we can,” she glanced sideways at Pinefrost, “I’m hoping you feel the same,”

Pinefrost found herself nodding.

_We just have to survive, and if being civil to Woolycloud means I can keep Orchidpaw, Campiontail and Sedgenose safe, then I can do that._

“Hunting will be our biggest problem, and herbs,” Woolycloud continued,

“It’ll be easier to hunt in a group,” Pinefrost mewed. _Woolycloud, Houndpelt, and me._ She shuddered but pushed the thought down. Orchidpaw, Sedgenose and Campiontail depended on her.

“If we go into WoodClan’s camp tomorrow, we can search for herbs, though, I don't know if its worth it," she shook her head, her eyes suddenly glazed with grief as she studied the forest. Pinefrost looked away.

“What about your Clanmates?” she mewed eventually, snapping her out of her teary-eyed staring.

“I can persuade Campiontail not to claw your fur off,” Pinefrost replied. _She’s too wounded to raise a claw against you._

Woolycloud nodded,

“Houndpelt will do anything as long as it helps Cuckoopaw,”

“She’s very sick,” Woolycloud mewed.

Pinefrost looked away as guilt scorched her fur. She tried to push the feeling away.

_She’s not from CreekClan!_

There was silence again.

She couldn’t help but feel a small spark of satisfaction. She was helping CreekClan, in a way. She was keeping Sedgenose safe, and her mentor, and her friend. She gave a strangled purr of amusement; and she was allying with a WoodClan cat, surely that was the biggest achievement of any CreekClan cat’s life, ever.

Woolycloud tipped her head,

“Hm?”

“You’re not so bad, for a WoodClan cat,”

“You mean, I agree with you,”

“Huh?”

Woolycloud twitched her whiskers,

“I’ve dealt with stubborn, arrogant, one-track-minded cats all my life, you learn how to make them like you and not cause problems,”

Pinefrost winced. _She means I’m stubborn, arrogant and one track minded._

“I’ll take that as a compliment then,” she mewed, watching Woolycloud’s dull eyes begin to light with humour.

“You should, you’re not too bad for a CreekClan cat either. I’ve meant some real awful ones as well,” she joked.

“Bet you have,”

“Oh yes,” Woolycloud broke into a lopsided trot as she stumbled over the uneven ground to catch up, “you’re all so scary,”

“We can be,” 

Another long moment of silence. Ash billowed into the air as they moved, breathing it in and being coated with it.

“When did you become a warrior?”

“Last moon,” Pinefrost answered.

“Wow,”

Pinefrost gave a _mmhh_ of agreement. Last moon. She always thought she’d be fighting WoodClan, not patrolling through the forest with them.

_We are still fighting though_ , she reminded herself, _just not right now._

Pinefrost raised her tail to signal to Woolycloud to follow, as she splashed through the stream and to the other side. The field was ahead of them, a flat swath of grey. Only a few rows of mangled trees lay between her and the endless sea of grey. A shadow flitted in the corner of her vision. Pinefrost halted, stones rattling down as she stopped.

“Look!” She hissed.

“Hm? What?” Woolycloud’s ears jerked straight.

The mist shimmered, and for a heartbeat, Pinefrost wondered if she’d imagined it. But then the two shapes weaved between the trees ahead of them- two cats. Pinefrost froze as she saw a tail lift in fear, ears pricking, and four eyes gleaming in the dark. A scent touched her nose. Clan cats.

They had noticed them too. Pinefrost claw’s slid out.

_Please, don’t be WoodClan!_ She tensed her hindlegs as the two cats moved forward. Did she recognise that loping gait? That thin tail?

Hope burned in her heart, overpowering her worries. _Even if they’re injured, we can help them._ But as the two cats approached, her hope fizzled out.

“Curledtail!” Woolycloud yowled, her voice filled with more fear than joy. Besides the tabby, a pale tom staggered forward. Pinefrost recognised the pointy ears and lean face instantly.

“Flaxstripe!” She lunged forward, a cry tearing itself from her lungs. Her paws skimmed the ground as she raced towards the cats, her heart in her mouth. _StarClan- don’t let them be as bad as Campiontail!_

“Thank StarClan,” the dark grey molly grumbled as Woolyclod pelted towards her. Pinefrost knew her- Curledtail- the one who stirred up trouble on the border; and her fur prickled with unease. She turned to Flaxstripe with a purr and studied his lean, starved form. His fur was matted and patchy, clotted with dried blood and dirt, and a large, open wound trailed across his chest. His nose was oozing blood, his eyes were misty and pained, but brightened as Pinefrost nuzzled his shoulder with a friendly purr.

“Have you seen anyone else?” She asked. Her stomach went cold as Flaxstripe shook his head.

“I only saw Curledtail this morning,” he answered, his voice dry, “she nearly clawed my fur off,”

“You stole my catch,” Curledtail spat, listening in on the warriors.

“It was a team effort,” Flaxstripe sat down with a grunt and looked at Pinefrost, then to Woolycloud, who introduced herself quickly.

“WoodClan,” Flaxstripe murmured, “is everyone getting friendly now?”

“Only till we find Sunstar,” Curledtail replied, tossing the CreekClan warriors a fierce look. Her broken tail was kinked high over her back, lofty and proud. Despite the scabbing wounds along her neck, the clotted blood on her legs, and the bald patches alone her spine, she looked as vicious as ever.

“Gravelpelt’s our leader for now,”

“Gravelpelt?” Curledtail shot Woolycloud a horrified look.

“He and Houndpelt are in charge,”

“Oh the CreekClan warriors are letting themselves be bossed around now?”

Pinefrost was too tired to growl.

“Sedgenose has been looking after us, and some others who are injured,” Woolycloud mewed quickly.

“Who else? Did your _brother_ survive?” Curledtail’s mew was strangely edged.

Woolycloud didn’t miss a beat as she replied,

“Orchidpaw and Campiontail from CreekClan, and Cuckoopaw,”

“The _kittypet_?” Curledtail’s fur fluffed in disbelief and she gave a mocking snort, “CreekClan cats and kittypets for denmates, really Woolycloud?”

Woolycloud fixed her with a sharp glare, right in the eyes; Pinefrost could see Curledtail’s open surprise.

“If you want to stay in this forest, I’m not going to stop you,” she turned to nod at Pinefrost- a respectful nod, she noted, “we should get back before it gets dark,”

Pinefrost led the way, with Flaxstripe close to her. She wanted to leave the forest quickly, put as much distance as she could between her and the camp.

“How did you survive?” He asked, his eyes deeply curious. He limped alongside her, holding his forepaw high in the air.

“I ran to the river,” Pinefrost shivered as the memory crept up on her- towering flame and smoke. She shook it off and looked to Flaxstripe, "how about you?"

“I just hightailed it out of there, went all the way over that hill,” he gestured with his tail to the wild lands beyond the stream, far, far away. “It was on fire for as far as I could see,”

“Did you see any prey?” Pinefrost tipped her head- would new land be any safer than the forest?

“No, but I saw the strangest thing,” Flaxstripe mewed as they crossed a swath of burnt juniper, “A bird,”

“A bird?” Her fur prickled as Dandelionfall’s voice rang in her head. _It was a bird, a silverbird._

“A bluebird I think, it just fell from the sky,”

“Just fell?”

“It fell,” he raised his tail up, and then swung it down, acting the birds final moments, “and then twitched, and died- tasted strange too,”

Pinefrost’s stomach cramped. What was that cold scent that lingered on her burnt blackbird? If only she had a name for it. The not knowing made her fur crawl.

“Did you see anyone else?” She pressed. Flaxstripe stared ahead of him, his eyes dull.

“Not a whisker,” his pelt rippled and his tail shook.

“Campiontail and Sedgenose are at camp,” she mewed.

Instantly, Flaxstripe shook off the dark look in his eyes and brightened.

“Well, what are you being slow for?”

As the senior warrior put on speed, so did Pinefrost, and she struggled to keep up with his quick strides until they reached the river. His paw was bleeding by the time she reached the shore. Woolycloud pulled up behind them, Curledtail next, her face twisted into a scowl.

“And how are we supposed to cross?” She dabbed a paw into the water- naked and furless.

“Swim,” Flaxstripe began to wade into the water after shooting her a fierce glance. His whiskers twitched with shock as icy water lapped over his back.

Pinefrost lunged after him, grimacing at the cold, and paddled to catch up. The gravelly bottom fell away and she thrashed her forelegs out, freely floating in the flowing water. Flaxstripe was taller than her, and she leant against the tom for support. The trek across the forest had drained her, and she was grateful for her Clanmates help as she swam, legs churning, to the other side. Her shoulder throbbed in pain as she reached the bank. Her paws caught the rough rocks and she winced. The cuts on her pads had opened again.

On the beach, she sat down with a sigh. The stones here were safe, the grass field was safe; not the forest, full of death and decay.

Her mind ached with images- burnt, hard bodies.

Flaxstripe caught her eye and gave her a friendly twitch of his whiskers.

“So, how have you managed? Living with WoodClan?”

“It’s been- different,” Pinefrost tried to give a purr. She was always aware of it, but she could ignore it as long as Sedgenose and the others were safe.

“I can’t imagine sharing a den with those fleabags!” Flaxstripe crowed. Pinefrost grunted in agreement. She watched Woolycloud leading Curledtail and felt a weird stab of sympathy.

“Why are you waiting?” Flaxstripe mewed, and Pinefrost leapt to her paws. The WoodClan cats paddled over, Woolycloud climbed out first, her fur dark and dripping. Flaxstripe’s whiskers flickered and he turned away from the wet WoodClan cats to face the ash covered grassland.

“So this is home?” His mew was cheerful and he gave Pinefrost a nudge to get her moving.

“There’s a badger sett,” she turned to face the darkening sky and touched her tail to his shoulder, a signal to get moving again.

“Not as sheltered as the forest,” Flaxstripe sneezed as ash drifted through the air, “but it’ll do,” Pinefrost gave an agreeing mew and dove into the hollow, suddenly glad to be back. Once in camp, Flaxstripe gave a joyous yowl that echoed through the air.

Confused mewls answered him and Sedgenose’s frightened face appeared from the den. Pinefrost purred as she saw the delight light her face.

“Flaxstripe!”

“Miss me?” The pale tabby padded towards her and Campiontail, who was slumped outside the den, her whiskers twitching.

“Not one bit,” Campiontail touched her muzzle to his cheek, shielding the injured side of her face, “have you seen Shellspine? Or Ouzelheart?” Her eye glowed with hope.

Flaxstripe gave a sad shake of his head and sat down.

“Not since the battle,” he glanced at Campiontail, eyes brimming with worry as he studied her weeping, oozing skin. Pinefrost shuffled closer to her mentor, trying to feel the warmth from another CreekClan cat again.

On the other side of camp, Houndpelt’s round face appeared in the shadows. The brown and white tom padded into the centre of camp.

“Curledtail,” he mewed evenly with a dip of his head.

“Call this a camp?” Curledtail looked around before breaking off in a coughing fit, and then sat down. The water had made her fur frizzy, and the oily grime clung to her thick pelt.

“It’s home for now,” Woolycloud rasped. Pinefrost looked up from where she had her nose pressed into Campiontail’s shoulder, catching her eye.

“Sedgenose,” Pinefrost mewed, “could you check Flaxstripe and Curledtail for injuries?”

“A _CreekClan_ cat?” Curledtail spat, lip curling in revulsion.

“She’s a medicine cat-“ Woolycloud began,

“Don’t tell me you’ve been getting help from _them_ ," Woolycloud said nothing, but the fur along her spine was raised and Pinefrost could see the tension in her hind legs.

“Ugh, no wonder you never became high rank,” Curledtail fluffed up her fur and struggled to her paws. “Where’s Gravelpelt,” she hobbled to the other den, limping all the way, river water sluicing off her dark pelt.

The WoodClan cats just looked at each other, Houndpelt’s blue eyes narrowed, jaw set tight.

Pinefrost looked over to Sedgenose, cleared her throat,

“Sedgenose,”

“What? Oh, yes,” Sedgenose jumped to her paws and quickly surveyed the camp, as if she was suddenly remembering where she was, “Give yourself a good clean, especially that shoulder,”

“Here, let me help you,” Campiontail pushed herself up onto her forepaws as Pinefrost sprawled onto her side, wincing as her joints clicked.

“It feels like its healing,” she dragged her tongue over her shoulder, tasting fresh, irony skin. _Hopefully it’ll stop being so sore in a few days._

“You’re still scruffy as ever,” Campiontail chided, paws running through the shaggy fur of her tail.

“It’s part of her look,” Pinefrost felt Flaxstripe’s tail ruffle her shoulder and she looked over at him, giving a short purr at the friendly gleam in his eyes. He looked relieved to see them, be back with CreekClan. Pinefrost’s stomach clenched; he’d been alone in that forest until he found Curledtail, how had he coped? She shook it off, none of them were alone now. _Until we find Cranestar._

Until then, her and Flaxstripe could manage looking after the others. She felt her invisible burden lighten, knowing Flaxstripe could hunt with her; and maybe Campiontail, soon.

_I shouldn’t overwork myself_ , she thought, as she flexed her shoulder, then she shook her head. _CreekClan needs me_. New skin was growing, shiny and tight, but her fur wasn’t coming back; she'd be fine. As she groomed her flanks, tufts came out in spidery clouds. Her belly tightened with worry.

“Flaxstripe seems okay,” Pinefrost looked up to see Sedgenose trotting towards her, “Curledtail- well, we’ll see,” she looked flustered, tired, like she hadn’t sat down all day. “Let me check you again Campiontail,”

Campiontail sat up and sniffed,

“Checking won’t make it heal any quicker,”

“Humour me,” Sedgenose ordered, her tail-tip flicking.

As she sat in camp, she could hear Flaxstripe and Campiontail chattering as Sedgenose flitted between the den and the warriors, and a great sadness swallowed her. It was a sound so close to home, but so distant at the same time. Her heart felt punctured and her mind dredged up images of the CreekClan camp, horribly distorted by the fire. It wouldn’t be the same- ever.

Suddenly the image changed and Pinefrost’s chest tightened wickedly quick. She couldn’t speak. Her body was gripped by cold fangs of horror.

Mallowshine’s body.

The kits, left to die.

CreekClan had fled. Pinefrost’s hope fizzled out. Her Clan, her family, had been scattered across the territory and the land beyond.

Pinefrost folded her tail over herself. It was suddenly darker. Flaxstripe and Campiontail had gone; she could hear the shallow breaths of sleep.

_I must have lost track of time_. She raised her head. Her tongue felt sore.

“We can always go out tomorrow, search WoodClan camp,” Woolycloud’s voice made her ears prick.

“I told you- we have to wait here,” Gravelpelt. Pinefrost pricked her ears. He sounded tired.

“Sunstar isn’t coming for us,” She hissed back, and Pinefrost felt a prick of pride for her. _Good on her, speaking up._

“How could you?”

“Did he come and find you?”

“No, but-“

“Exactly, he’s probably sulked off somewhere,”

“Don’t speak about our leader like that low-rank,” Curledtail hissed.

“Stop arguing,” Houndpelt snapped, “we have more important things to think about, right now,”

“We need herbs to treat infection, and food to eat,” Woolycloud again, a desperate note to her mew.

“I said I’ll go hunting tomorrow,” Houndpelt coughed, “I’ll head downstream again, see what I can find,”

“I can look after myself,”

“Same here,” Gravelpelt rasped. She heard a huff of frustration.

“How’s Cuckoopaw?”

“Hm,”

“I can’t believe-“

“Houndpelt-“ their voices became quieter, muffled, lost to the wind.

Pinefrost chewed thoughfully on her cheek. She had thought WoodClan were like her

_How wrong was I?_ She almost laughed to herself.

She glanced over her shoulder at the CreekClan den. _At least I know CreekClan would never turn on each other._

The night was upon them now and a vicious wind began to blow. Ash and smoke filled the air and the clouds thickened, the sky darkening until the valley was cast in shadow.

Pinefrost sat up. She could still hear the low rumble of voices.

The night sky was hidden, but Pinefrost still looked to it as she got to her paws. Somewhere, up there, behind the smoke and clouds, was Silverpelt. Where they still looking over her, as she now looked up at them, praying to keep her Clan safe?

She stared at the clouds, hoping they would part; just let a tiny sliver of sky show, a thin strip of stars. Nothing. The clouds were as thick as ever. She tipped her chin to the sky, feeling the strain in her neck. She still had to believe.

_StarClan, if you’re there, keep Dandelionfall safe._

And in reply, a black rain began to fall.


	19. Chapter 18

Hunger pierced through Pinefrost’s stomach as she lapped water from the river.

She felt better. No nausea today; even the pain in her shoulder was beginning to fade. The odd scraps and scrapes along her pelt and the wind was blowing strongly, ruffling her pelt in that feel-good breeze. All her anxiety from last night had faded, because Flaxstripe was pressed next to her and they were going hunting; just like old times.

Flaxstripe was gazing across the water, the wind streaming through his fur as he stood besides her, a sentry keeping watch. He was twitching with nervous energy.

Overnight, it had rained, and the ash had turned to mud. Everything was coated with a greasy film of black, slimy liquid. Pinefrost had to shove her muzzle beneath the surface to sip the cool, gritty water below. When she raised her head, black flecks dropped from her whiskers. The water tasted foul.

“Which way?” Flaxstripe asked, looking upstream, then downstream.

Pinefrost paused. Upstream was WoodClan’s territory for definite, downstream they could claim that CreekClan could hunt there. She glanced across the river, sluggishly sliding past her, she definitely didn’t want to swim through that. The wind tugged her fur again, blowing towards the forest remains.

“Downstream, we’ll be down wind as well,” she mewed, waiting for the older warrior to nod in agreement.

“Hopefully there will be a way to get back to CreekClan territory soon,” Flaxstripe muttered, hobbling up the stony beach and towards the field. Pinefrost gave an agreeing murmur, she didn’t like having to wait on another tree branch to get lodged between the banks to cross; and the thought of swimming the river every time she had to cross made her fur itch.

_Maybe we should build our own camp, back on our territory_ , she cast a longing glance towards the misty remains of her territory. Surely they’d find other CreekClan cats, and they could start rebuilding the Clan- that was the goal, wasn’t it?

A mewl of surprise from Flaxstripe startled her, and she looked up. He was poised on a ridge, an old grass tussock, she guessed, with his fur prickling in alarm.

“Didn’t expect it to look so-“ he began, then trailed off.

The field was as dark as night sky and flecked with white spots of pale ash, gathered in rippled piles around the flat landscape. It stretched forever, endless grey.

“Upclose,” he mewed finally, “from the forest, it didn’t look so bad,”

Pinefrost felt a sharp stab of sadness and looked away.

“Come on, let’s hunt,” she gave him a nudge, not wanting to linger too long on the thought. It’ll grow back.

Flaxstripe jolted upright and then set off, leading the way with a burst of speed, limping on three paws, his hind paw held delicately in the air behind him, barely touching the ground. There was a few spots of blood, oozing, and trickling down his shoulder.

Pinefrost followed silently, watching his uneasy gait. He would have to make sure he didn’t tear something.

As they headed downstream, her head swam with hunger. Her stomach squeezed and cold pain jolted her body. The thought of hunting made her hunger intensify, her dry mouth began to water, and she glanced around, senses alert. She could see Flaxstripe staring up at the sky, his eyes sullen.

Pinefrost followed his gaze and then looked towards Twolegplace; a huge, dark storm was brewing over the rubble. She shivered and the wind strengthened.

“That storm will be over us by tomorrow,” Pinefrost muttered suddenly.

“I look forward to it,” He mewed grimly, grimacing as he stared at the clouds.

“Maybe you can finally clean your pelt,” Pinefrost nudged his shoulder with a paw and tried to purr.

“Are you calling me filthy?”

“You look like a drowned rat,” She waved her tail as she kept walking,

Flaxstripe snorted and padded after her.

“Remember when Teaselstalk fell into the river? My nest was next to his, I kept having dreams I was swimming,”

Pinefrost gave a choking purr. She had been a fresh apprentice then, on one of her first hunting lessons; Teaselstalk had fell in the river saving Dandelionpaw after she had goaded her sister into looking at the water-vole holes. She swallowed.

_I wonder if any survived._ She glanced towards the river. The banks were sheltered, clogged with debris. Maybe a rat had made a new home in between the birch branches?

“So,” Flaxstripe mewed as Pinefrost bent down to sniff the river bank, nosing each stone in turn. “Do you know what- what happened?”

Nothing, only the cold scent of water. She raised her head,

“What do you mean?”

“Well, the fire, and the, sky,” he gave a shrug, tail twitching.

Pinefrost paused. She hadn’t really thought about it since it happened- but what was there to think about? The forest had gone. The Clan was scattered. She had to hunt to keep her Clanmates alive. It wasn’t anymore complicated than that.

But still, something niggled at the back of her mind- Sedgenose’s omen. What had the medicine cat said, just before she was made a warrior? She frowned, her mind was empty. Sedgenose would know.

“Can we talk about it when we get back? Sedgenose might know more,” she winced. She didn’t want to think about it too much. It felt bigger than her; a frightening thing. She didn’t want to think about the battle, the fire in the sky, or anything.

She got back to her paws and gestured further down river. There had to be something.

As they turned the riverbend, Pinefrost spotted the branch she used to cross yesterday, caught against the side. She could hear the waves lapping against it, sucking it back to the wall, then out into the river, back to the wall-

There was another sound, faint. A soft splashing.

_Vole._

Flaxstripe had heard it too; she saw him instantly drop into a crouch.

_Let him get it, he’ll probably catch it_. She stepped back to let him sneak forward, pawsteps light.

His filthy fur blended with the churned ash and mud, and he was as silent as a snake, creeping forward towards the river. Pinefrost stayed silent, pressed against the ground, holding her breath, as he stalked the vole. She could see it, nose and whiskers twitching cautiously as it clambered onto the branch. She could see it’s tiny feet, claws digging into the wet bark, it’s frail body twitching and shivering and living- she could _feel_ its heartbeat, its blood, its flesh- as Flaxstripe crept closer.

For a heartbeat, she thought he would fall over, or jump too early, or the vole would hear him and bolt into the river, or- Flaxstripe pounced and there was a squeal. He bounced back up with a small brown vole between his jaws, his ears pricked.

The grass rustled behind him and Pinefrost could see a small shape running towards them.

A second vole shot towards the bank, right at her, and she was on it in a heartbeat. Her teeth sunk into live flesh and she nipped the spine, blood washing over her teeth. Her knees practically buckled at the taste, warm and tangy.

“Nice!” Flaxstripe

“It jumped right into my paws,” _thank StarClan, that was lucky_. She raised her head and gave her pelt a shake.

“Think we can catch anything else?” The vole was swinging from his teeth by its tail. Pinefrost gave a twitch of her shoulders in response as she looked around the field.

Where would they prey be hiding? She studied the flat wasteland. Far, far off in the distance, Twolegplace’s ragged form broke the horizon, too far to travel today. _Didn’t the warriors mention hunting in Twoleg during leafbare?_ Pinefrost narrowed her eyes in thought; _if the forest doesn’t recover in time…_

She shook it off and kept searching.

There, back towards the hills, she spotted a faint mound in the ash. A lump disturbed the flat land and she motioned for Flaxstripe to follow. As they got closer, she could see what it was.

It was a tree, collapsed on its side onto a bush, piled with ash, but she could see bare brown earth between the branches. 

She opened her jaws to scent the air, slowing down as she approached, but she couldn’t detect anything. _Maybe we could look underneath._

Pinefrost ran up to it, disturbing the ash as she moved through the dead grass. She placed her paws on the bough, testing it’s precarious balance. The tree wobbled, and she pushed. Nothing.

She frowned.

Dropping into a crouch, she reached a paw forward and sweeped the ash away. Huge rolling clouds of it sprayed the air.

She spluttered, coughing and choking. Ash was in her eyes, her nose, her mouth. Flaxstripe pushed her to the side as she coughed and began digging through the debris.

“See anything?” She gasped. Her mouth felt gritty, and she spat out a black mouthful of saliva, throat clogging as she fought for breath.

“No mice, but there’s some grass and daisies that survived,”

“Grass?” Pinefrost opened one eye and stared at the plants, a short crop of bright, vivid green. The tree must have sheltered it from the fire. It was dying, slowly, but it was still the brightest green she’d seen. It felt obscene, so colourful against the grey wasteland. The daisies were cheerful, white and yellow dots clustered on pale, fingered branches. Pinefrost recognised them instantly.

“That’s chamomile,” she ducked her head forward and cautiously nipped off one fragile stalk, “Sedgenose can use it for your paw,”

“My paw’ll be fine, give it to Orchidpaw or Campiontail,” Flaxstripe mewed as he stepped back to let her collect the plants. He gave his hind leg a few awkward shakes, ash and dirt shivering off his foot, “I just gotta keep it clean,”

“Sure,” she mumbled behind the vole and chamomile. She could taste both of them, fresh forest-t scents that flooded her senses. It made her slightly nauseous, the strong, overpowering tang of them both.

“We should get this back to Sedgenose,” she nodded in the vague direction of camp, too far away to be seen. Flaxstripe gave a nod and set off in front of her, still limping, holding his back paw even higher every-time it reached the air.

The journey was long, Pinefrost hadn’t realised how far downriver they had travelled. She was getting sore, a tired ache springing up in her legs as she glimpsed the rugged outline of the badger sett.

Pinefrost padded ahead, a spring in her step, her tail high. Two voles and a sprig of chamomile, not a bad catch. _We can always go out again._ She just didn’t like leaving the others alone for so long.

She slid down the hollow wall with a stumbling grace and made from the CreekClan den. On the other side of the sett, Woolycloud was dragging a bundle of sticks towards the WoodClan den. Houndpelt was besides her, filthy and mud-splattered, shoring the wall up. Curledtail was grooming her pelt, legs sprawled out in front of her at an awkward angle, her tail squashed beneath her.

Pinefrost caught their eyes, flicked her ears- an automatic response to the faint nod from Woolycloud. Houndpelt wasn’t glowering at her, his blue eyes spoke of an uneasy mistrust, the same mistrust she felt towards both of them.

“Who are you looking at?” Curledtail snapped. Woolycloud jerked her head away. With a sneer, Curledtail got up and strode past, splashing through a puddle that lay in the centre of camp. She bent her head and lapped up several mouthfuls of the slimy, greasy water that clogged the earth with a grimace. She shook her pelt out, spraying the air. Pinefrost growled as water slapped her face, she looked away, forced her fur to lay flat.

She flexed her claws with annoyance.

She had felt like she had been getting somewhere, making progress, and now what? Where they just going back to hating each other, the open hostility again? Then she looked at Flaxstripe and her catch maybe they didn’t really need to work together.

_Why did you think you could work with a WoodClan cat? It’s up to you to look after them._

“I’ll try hunting again later,” Pinefrost mewed as she put down her catch. She rolled the chamomile gently onto the ground, she’d give it to Sedgenose once she ate.

“Do you think we should make better nests?” Campiontail was looking at the WoodClan cats, her eye focused on the pile of burnt sticks in the centre of camp. Pinefrost bit her lip. She didn’t want to waste anytime not hunting. Then she saw Campiontail’s ears flicker, claws flex; _she wants something to do._

“Could do, if you feel up to it,” Flaxstripe answered, “I’d rather be hunting, I’m starved,” he sat down, haunches sticking into the air, chest fur soaking up mud, and began chewing on the vole.

Self conscious, Pinefrost pushed her catch towards Campiontail.

“You first, you caught it,” Campiontail shook her head.

She took a delicate bite of the vole, letting the blood wash over her tongue. Her stomach leapt into her mouth as she ate, desperately hungry. The meat was dry, tasting of dirt and ash, but she was too hungry to care.

There was half of it left when she pushed it towards Campiontail, her stomach still growling with hunger. She pushed the feeling away and turned to Flaxstripe,

“You give that to Sedgenose and Orchidpaw, “I’ll take this chamomile to her, see if she can make a poultice or something,”

“I’ll catch them something later,” he mewed, wiping blood from his lips. Pinefrost felt a private pang of doubt, but pushed it away; _he needs to eat too_. She got up and headed towards Sedgenose, resting by the den, Orchidpaw tucked into her side.

She was asleep, or feigning sleep, with Orchidpaw struggling to groom her shoulder in the crook of her belly. Her grey fur was clean, cleaner than Pinefrost’s, and the patchwork burns along her body were less angry looking, pink, not red. She gave a private sigh of relief as she approached the tiny apprentice, who raised her head as Pinefrost approached.

“Did you go to camp yesterday?” She mewed, blinking owlishy as she opened her pale eyes. Pinefrost was shocked as she stared into her misty, bulging eyes; the fur around her face had gone, only pale skin remained.

“Y-yes,” Pinefrost answered. Her eyes were cloudy as the sky, it was frightening to stare into their misty depths. How had that happened?

“What was it like?”

Another shock jolted Pinefrost- Mallowshine’s body, the kits, the _destruction_. She didn’t want to tell Orchidpaw that.

“C-can you see?” She asked instead.

“Sort of,” Orchidpaw mewed, “Sedgenose says it’ll get better,” she shuffled on her paws, stretching her head up a bit. The skin around her neck was pale as snow.

“Pinefrost?” Sedgenose stirred, and Pinefrost instantly snapped her attention towards the medicine cat.

“Got you some chamomile,”

Her head jerked up and she gave a trill of delight,

“Oh that’s- that’s brilliant. Finally, I have something to work with,” she shuffled her position, Orchidpaw scrambled to sit upright, and gave the chamomile a tentative sniff, “I could probably get one or two poultices out of this, where did you find it?”

“Downriver,” she mewed, promising to herself to explore the area better tomorrow, “who’s worse?” She asked, trying to catch Sedgenose’s eye.

“Campiontail,” Sedgenose frowned, “she doesn’t show it though, and I’m still worried about that scratch on your flank,” she nosed Orchidpaw’s cheek- a test for fever.

“It’s just sore,” Orchidpaw wriggled away from Sedgenose’s probing muzzle, her bright, worried eyes. “Once it’s healed, I’ll be able to come hunting with you, right?” She turned her glistening, white eyes to Pinefrost.

“We’ll probably have found the Clan by then,” Pinefrost tried to purr but it dried up in her throat. She couldn’t stare at Orchidpaw’s eyes any longer, and nudged her shoulder with a paw, “Flaxstripe’s got a vole

“She’s doing much better,” Pinefrost began cautiously.

“She is-“

“Flaxstripe wanted to talk about what happened-“ there was a cracking sound, and Pinefrost tensed, claws unsheathed, and span around to face the hollow’s slope.

It was Gravelpelt, shambling back in, dragging a filthy, mangled seagull behind him. She sighed and stepped backwards; her heart was pounding against her chest. The seagull was huge, tattered wings dragging on the ground, its bones were prodding from its skin, the open cavity of its chest was dry as sand, dirtied with ash. He staggered forward, uneasy on his huge paws, and headed for the den, as elegant as a rabid badger.

_He’s going to have that all to himself._ Pinefrost thought, a disapproving scowl spreading across her face. _They really are selfish animals._

Woolycloud was staring, her ears flat against her head. Pinefrost watched her tail-tip twitch, then she got up, and vanished over the top of the sett in a single bound. Houndpelt was no where to be seen.

She turned back to Sedgenose, intending to continue asking about what happened, but stopped when she saw the raw worry in her eyes; and followed her stare to the WoodClan den.

“What?” She asked, keeping her voice low.

“Cuckoopaw-“ she began, shuffling her paws. Pinefrost halted, regretted asking- hot guilt began to sweep through her pelt like a fever.

“She’s bad,”

“W-what do you mean?”

“Well, her burns are _healing_ , but, not fast enough, and she’s so little-“ she shook her head and sighed a worried sigh, eyes glittering with conflict. Pinefrost knew the feeling all to well. _She wants to care for her as a medicine cat should, but knows she’s from WoodClan_.

“They just don’t care,” Sedgenose whispered, “they completely ignore her, I swear I’m not imagining it,”

Pinefrost’s fur began to prickle. _I’m not the only one who thinks they’re weird_. She remembered the argument from a few days ago- high rank. What in StarClan’s name was wrong with WoodClan?

_Stupid question, again._

Pinefrost grit her teeth. How could she feel more sympathy for the apprentice than her own Clan did? She ran her paw over the chamomile.

_Two poultices._

“It’s like if we completely ignored Orchidpaw- or Whitespeckle- or- it just makes no sense. _We_ don’t do that,”

_You can always find more._

“Give her some of that chamomile, for her burns, it works on them right?” Pinefrost mumbled. She looked away from Sedgenose’s surprised eyes; a prick of guilt stabbing her.

_Your Clanmates need that as well._ Her mind reminded her.

_CreekClan doesn’t let apprentices die!_ She grit her teeth and gave a lash of her tail. Why was everything so- so- so like _this_? Frustration bubbled under her skin. She felt sick with anger.

“Are you sure?” Sedgenose asked. Her paws twitched with nerves.

“Yeah,” she began to pad away, back to the den. She needed a rest. Then she’d hunt again.

Campiontail was inside the den, diligently scraping herself a bigger nest.

“Let me help you with that-“ Pinefrost offered, but was stopped by a whisk of her tail.

“I’ve just finished,” she mewed, settling onto her side, careful not to touch her burnt skin to the dirt, “you look shattered anyway,”

Pinefrost twitched her shoulders as she circled her own nest. She could see the pain in Campiontail’s eyes, though of Flaxstripe hobbling across the field,

“I’m not that bad,” her stomach cramped with sudden pain as she laid down. She watched Campiontail settle and tuck her head into her paws. She yawned. Her belly cramped. She had to go hunting soon. She curled up a little tighter, and, sore with exhaustion, slept.


	20. Chapter 19

It rained all night; fat black droplets of rain that clotted the ground with mud. The noise was endless. Rain hammered down, splashing in the muddy grooves, rattling the dead trees.

Pinefrost shivered violently and pressed closer to Sedgenose; desperate for warmth. Bones jutted into her shoulder. Sedgenose’s fur was spiky and uncomfortable against Pinefrost’s flank.

She couldn’t sleep. She was hot. The air was stifling, despite the rain pounding outside. She felt like her pelt was on fire. Burning.

Pinefrost opened her eyes.

The den was yellow with flame, the sky a mass of bright, blazing red.

_Fire_!

She couldn’t react. Something felt off. She was light, spinning, staring, unfocused, at the red sky. Around her, trees were catching fire and being swallowed by flame.

The forest was burning around her. Fire danced around her, smoke pouring into the sky. She swung her head around, confused. She could hear voices, cries in the distance.

“Where are you?” Pinefrost heard herself shout. Her legs trembled. Her head hurt.

The voices called back.

There, beyond the trees, her Clan. She knew it was CreekClan, it had to be. She could see them. Hear them. Feel them. A shape was forming in the smoke, a cat.

The cat’s mouth opened and closed- it was speaking to her. She pricked her ears. Nothing. The roar of flame and the sharp crackle of burning wood filled her ears. Anger boiled in her blood, why couldn’t she hear?

“What?” Pinefrost ran forward. Twigs crunched under paw, ash flew into the air, “what are you saying?”

The cat raised its head, startled, and fled. She gave chase, dodging falling fire and embers that sparkled around her like fireflies. The cat was ahead of her, bounding over the flames and fallen trees effortlessly, while she struggled and stumbled behind.

“What is it?” She yowled.

Then it wheeled around and raced towards her, a dark shadow in the red flame. She could see a pair of round ears, a thick tail behind it.

A shadow cut through her vision, a thick dark line of nothingness. It gave her brief respite, she arched her back as the cool shade washed over her. She shivered in its presence. The cat vanished. She opened her mouth to shout- and awoke, hot and breathless.

Her whole body ached.

The damp earth sucked the heat from her body quickly, and a chill set over her, till she shivered with cold but then, as quickly as it started, swung back to being hot and feverish, her vision swimming.

There was cold earth under her paws, her face was pressed into wet dirt, and she tried to lift her head, but failed. No matter how hard she tried, her body wouldn’t obey. She felt weak, limp as a wilting leaf.

There was a commotion outside, frantic shouting, heavy pawsteps. Too loud. Her head was pounding.

“Campiontail,” Pinefrost reached out a paw and poked a set of red haunches in front of her. The motion made her paw hurt and when she drew it away, tufts of dark fur came out.

“Huh?” Her voice sounded faraway, and she turned her head, her eye was glazed with fever.

“What’s going on?” Pinefrost croaked. Every breath felt like a struggle, like she was being burnt from the inside out.

Campiontail didn’t reply. Her nose was running, bloody, wet. Red crust edged her nose. What had happened to her? The burns across her face were weeping, bulging with purple-red spots. Pinefrost propped herself up to hear better, and the world dipped and swayed. Her head felt heavy and lolled forward. She groaned in pain. What was wrong with her?

It was a lot lighter, brighter. _Has the sun come out?_ White light streamed through the den entrance, sparkling on the damp earth. Yet it was freezing cold. She was shivering again, meekly curling around herself, her tail draped over her flanks. She heard Campiontail snuffle and whimper, and opened her eyes back up.

“Has Flaxstripe come back?” Campiontail wheezed.

“Huh?”

“He went-“ a rasp of pained breath, a choking noise in the back of her throat, “hunting,”

Pinefrost whimpered as pain shot through her stomach, a cold, stabbing sensation.

“I’m starved,” Campiontail mumbled as her head rolled back on the dirt.

Everything ached. She was terribly thirsty. Her legs felt cold and numb.

_Campiontail needs me._

Slowly, she slid both forelegs forward and tested them, then got up. Her spine cracked from neck to tail-tip, and she gasped with pain as her stomach jolted.

Her whole body was weak, and she was gasping for breath when she made it to the den exit, leaning against the wall for support.

The camp was hazy. Thick clouds squatted over the field, blocking light. No breeze blew. The air was oppressive and still, choking.

Ash lay scattered across camp, piled high on dry mounds of mud. Everything was grey. The same soft, fuzzy grey.

“How are you feeling?” Sedgenose was slumped against the hollow’s wall, eyes half closed, as Pinefrost cautiously stepped into camp. The ground was dry, but crumbled underpaw and she felt herself sink down with every pawstep. She could see the WoodClan cats, sprawled outside their den, and raised her chin.

“Thirsty, weird dreams,” her throat ached as she spoke and she coughed. Her mouth was dry as sand.

Sedgenose frowned, ears flattening, but she didn’t say anything. Pinefrost drew herself up, took a few steadying breaths against the tide of nausea, and sat down against the hollow wall. Her stomach cramped again and she swallowed a mouthful of bile.

“H-has Flaxstripe gone hunting?” She winced at the sharp pain at the back of her throat when she swallowed. Her throat stung. She could feel lumps in her neck when she spoke, two fat stones pressed against her windpipe.

“He’s by the river,”

Pinefrost nodded. The jump up the side of camp was ungraceful and sent pain shooting up her legs, but she managed.

Flaxstripe was sat on a stone, watching the river slide past. There was moisture sparkling on the beach. Pinefrost stumbled forward on numb limbs; she felt the stones on her paws and her legs suddenly gave. Flaxstripe’s ears shot up in surprise, and he turned to face her. She staggered towards the water and a wave of sickness washed over her. Bile rose in her throat and she threw up, gagging and choking. Vomit burnt her mouth and she whined in agony as her stomach cramped, pain slicing through her like claws.

“You as well?” His tone was annoyed. Pinefrost wiped her whiskers clean and staggered to her paws.

“I’m fine,” she felt only a bit better, the pain in her stomach had faded. She took a breath. She’d be fine. She needed to hunt.

“Come on,” she mewed, “we need to hunt,”

Flaxstripe gave a grunt and got to his paws. He led the way, and Pinefrost was focused on the tip of his tail to steady herself as they headed into the field.

She could see someone climbing out of the hollow- Curledtail, with Gravelpelt just behind her. _I wonder if they're going to their camp._

The WoodClan’s warriors spotted her, and a flash of sudden fear made her claws slide out against the stone, until they turned away and shambled upslope, towards the destroyed forest.

“We hunt better on flat land anyway,” Flaxstripe mewed. Pinefrost tried to mew back. Her heart was thumping in her head, painful and loud in her ears. _Once we get back I can sleep it off._

Flaxstripe gave her a curious look over his shoulder as they rounded the riverbend.

“You okay?” His ear flicked away a fly that had landed on the raw tip.

“Tired,” she mumbled.

“Who isn’t,” he said. They kept going in silence. Pinefrost could barely stay focused as she tried to scent the air.

Flaxstripe raised his tail for her to halt suddenly. He had spotted something.

“Keep back,” he dropped into a crouch, and began to stalk. 

She caught sight of a pigeon, struggling to tug a worm from the ground behind a tree branch. But something was off; he was going at it the wrong way. Pinefrost’s hunger gave her the strength to drop into a crouch as Flaxstripe paced towards the bird. If he jumped now the bird would- Flaxstripe sprang and Pinefrost was ready as it lurched into the air and flapped over the branch.

She leapt, paws slamming into it’s wings. It staggered, fell down, and Flaxstripe launched himself at its neck. He landed with a satisfied growl. His pelt was stained with ash.

“Not bad,” he was heading towards camp again, limping along the trail. Pinefrost frowned. _One_ pigeon? It was mangled and tattered.

“We should keep-“ she started, but he waved his tail.

“Don’t bother, you look shattered anyway,”

Pinefrosy grit her teeth. He tiredness could wait. The scent of the pigeon touched her nose, and she could only pad after him, her tail dragging.

She smelt camp before she saw it. _Sickness_. Her whole body recoiled.

Woolycloud was dragging herself out of the hollow, her pelt matted and filthy. She didn’t acknowledge the CreekClan cats as they slipped past.

The den wasn’t much better. It was stuffy and hot, and Pinefrost could barely stand it.

Orchidpaw and Campiontail were in separate nests, shivering, curled up tight. Orchidpaw raised her head weakly, white eyes shining with fever, as Pinefrost approached. Flaxstripe lingered in the den entrance, his whole pelt spiked with fear.

“Have some of this pigeon,” Pinefrost mewed, sliding a paw onto Orchidpaw’s flank.

“I’m not hungry,” she whimpered.

“Have a little bit,” Pinefrost’s heart was squeezing shut. She had to eat. She had to keep her strength up.

A shadow crossed the den

“Where have you been?” Flaxstripe growled. Pinefrost’s fur began to prickle at his tone, “shouldn’t you be looking after them?”

“I just had to check on Gravelpelt-“ Sedgenose began softly.

“You’re looking after them?” Flaxstripe bit

“I’m a medicine cat-“

“Well, what’s wrong with them then?” He gestured towards the WoodClan den with a scowl.

“Same as us,” Sedgenose sniffed. Pinefrost could see blood crusted around her nose.

Pinefrost didn’t say anything. Her stomach was squeezing itself tightly together, agonising cramps that went straight through her. She barely had the strength to listen.

“How did we get sick?” She asked, and no one replied.

Pinefrost tried to tune out Sedgenose’s voice as she curled up.

Sleep came fitfully again. Her chest ached, her heart pounded uncomfortably hard against her ribs, and her dreams were painful; smoky and dark, filled with a scent she couldn’t name, but filled her with dread.

////

The next morning brought the same pain, the same sickness, as did the morning after. Pinefrost struggled out of her den, her stomach raw with pain, her back legs shaking, her head pounding, and slumped against the wall.

Her mind was foggy, confused. A dull ache still gripped her whole body as she awoke. She felt as if she had slept for a moon and but could sleep for a hundred more.

She flexed her claws, testing her aching muscles. Her stomach hurt, sore. Hunger, and nausea. The air was cool against her bare skin, she could feel it drying the trickles of blood that dribbled from spots along her pelt.

Flaxstripe was pressed against her, she could feel his ragged, laboured breathing. His fur was wet; the skin was bleeding.

Somehow, the young warrior had dodged most of the sickness that plagued her and Campiontail but Pinefrost could see wounds opening up along his skin; the ugly blisters that had returned, even after the fire had gone and the burns had healed.

On the other side of the sett, Houndpelt was still, his paws tucked under him, staring at the ground. It was hard to believe that the bulky tom had become so thin, his bones poked from under his skin, and his eyes were dull and tired. He had barely moved in two days.

She glanced across the camp. Gravelpelt was still, flat against the ground. His mottled fur blended into the soft ash around him. For a heartbeat, Pinefrost wondered if he was dead; the first victim of the sickness.

Then she saw him cough, seize, claws scrap against the ground, and gave a private sigh of relief. Death had dodged them another day.

Flaxstripe coughed a few times as he crossed through camp with his tail held high in the air. His eyes were hard with determination, focused on some goal Pinefrost couldn’t see. There was blood drying on his ears, his lips were blackened and swollen.

“Has Sedgenose looked at you?” Flaxstripe’s voice was low, his eyes dark “not that there’s anything she can do,” he added with a flick of his tail.

“We just need food, to keep our strength up,” Pinefrost rasped. She had only ate half a shrew in two days, she couldn’t keep anything down anyway.

Flaxstripe said nothing as he got up, and Pinefrost followed. Nothing needed to be said; they were going hunting. They had to keep CreekClan’s strength up while Sedgenose prayed to StarClan to heal them.

The field was empty, not that Pinefrost expected it to change. They only found a skinny squirrel yesterday, half dead in the rotting remains of a tree.

Flaxstripe was winding a dizzy path through the ash, his paws leaving deep tracks in the debris. Pinefrost staggered after him. Her head was swimming, her thoughts a million fox-lengths away.

How were the others doing? Dandelionfall, Baypaw? Where they hungry, wherever they were?

Pinefrost’s heart stabbed with grief. _There’s no hunger in StarClan._ She shook the thought away. They had to be alive.

“Nothing here,” Flaxstripe’s mew was tense. He raised his head from where he’d been sniffing at a tussock of blazed grass.

Pinefrost shrugged. _Keep going_. She stumbled ahead of him, jaws parted to scent the air; but all she could taste was phlegm and blood. Her legs grew sore, paws rolling over the ground as she trekked forward. The river was growing wider here, as her and Flaxstripe stepped into unknown lands, and she could tell that the grass that grew here wasn’t the long, feathery ryegrass of the field, but shorter, thicker. There were stumps of twisted roots, blackened and burnt away.

The smell of smoke got stronger, and Pinefrost gave up searching. Her stomach growled fiercely, cramped, and she sat down, gasping for breath. The world dipped, and she felt Flaxstripe’s tail touch against her shoulder.

“We’re a long way from camp,” his mew was disjointed.

Pinefrost glanced up. She hadn’t realised how far they’d come; no wonder she was aching with tiredness. Twolegplace was close. She could see it now, the uneven structures, rubble and ruin. There was a huge, flat swath of black earth, shiny in the weak light, that stretched into the mouth of blasted rock, just in front of her. It seemed to go forever.

She dug her claws into the dirt as the wind kicked up, the breeze blowing her fur. She waivered, knees weak, and the horizon blurred into the sky. The dark stripe of ground really did go on, and on, into the fog.

“Thunderpath,” Flaxstripe’s voice was muffled. “Dangerous,”

There was a slight pause as Pinefrost lingered. She kept staring. Did Twolegplace end? She couldn’t help the tiny spark of curiosity that warmed her aching body. Where did it go? What was inside? Did it even end?

_Does it matter if it ends? We didn’t catch anything._

Her stomach growled again. A headache was forming between her eyes like a thunderhead.

“Let’s head back,” she mewed. She stared back at the valley. They had come so far, it would take forever to get back. She felt weak at the thought.

By the time they got back, it was dark. The valley was cast in deep shadow, and a chill was setting in. Pinefrost was numb with exhaustion as she clambered down into the hollow and into her den. She passed the WoodClan cats sprawled in front of the den and forced herself to look away.

The two cats were nearly furless, and the ground around them was wet with blood. Curledtail’s burns had returned with a vengeance. Houndpelt looked worse. His fur was falling off, the skin underneath red as poppy flowers. Bones poked through his skin, and she could see the ragged line of his spine. He didn’t look up as Pinefrost staggered past.

_What in StarClan’s name is wrong with us?_

Pinefrost struggled to see straight when she got into the den. She could feel Flaxstripe right behind her, his breath hot against her bare neck.

Sedgenose was crouched in the den, Orchidpaw and Campiontail huddled against her.

“I wondered where you were,” she whispered. Her green eyes were wide. Orchidpaw whimpered in her sleep and shuffled closer to the medicine cat, while Pinefrost stepped over her body to find her nest.

“Had to go a long way,” Flaxstripe responded. Pinefrost could only flop down in the dirt. She felt her body slip out of her and the world spin away, greying out, as she lay on her side. She twisted around, curled up, tightly, as if she could squeeze the pain away, and then had to stretch out again as another cramp shot through her back. No position was comfortable.

Campiontail raised her head weakly.

“Catch anything?”

“No,” Flaxstripe answered.

Pinefrost folded her ears over her head. She didn’t want to hear them talking. She was starving. So were the others.

“We went all the way to Twolegplace,” Flaxstripe continued, his lean body blocking the weak light that filtered in from the sky, “and caught nothing. I’m telling you, we have to go back to the forest,”

Pinefrost craned her head around to look at him. His eyes were hungry, his ears pinned back against his head. She could see his ribs.

“The forest will be better sheltered, more prey, less WoodClan,” he stabbed a claw into the ground and waited for a response. Pinefrost didn’t say anything.

It was Sedgenose who spoke,

“We can’t move Orchidpaw yet,”

His nostrils flared,

“What are we doing?”

“We’re sick,”

“No, what are we doing. We’re not searching for our Clanmates, we’re just- waiting with a bunch of WoodClan cats.”

Pinefrost blinked open her eyes and looked at him.

“Even before we got sick, we were just waiting here.”

“Flaxstripe, I’m tired-“

“You’ve been living with these WoodClan cats, just, _waiting_ , doing nothing,”

“We’ve been trying to _survive_ ,” Sedgenose spat with sudden force, and the warrior immediately went quiet.

Sedgenose’s fur flattened and she twitched her tail, blinked a few times, and gave an almost apologetic dip of her head.

“Can we talk once we’re better?” Her mew was softer.

Flaxstripe looked away, ears flat.

“Yeah, put off talking about it again,” he mumbled.

There was silence.

“Alright,” Sedgenose was shaking her head, her eyes tightly shut, “once Orchidpaw can walk, we’ll talk about it again.”

“We just need to keep our strength up for now,” Pinefrost mewed, glancing at Sedgenose’s sad eyes, trying to find a way to break the silence, “we just need some fresh kill.” _We just need to survive._

“I’ll go tomorrow, _again_ ,” Flaxstripe flopped down into his nest with a huff. She could see his eyes, dark with annoyance. _How can he be annoyed at having to feed his Clan?_ CreekClan warriors would do anything to keep the Clan fed. She shivered at the thought. Despite her aching muscles, she found the strength to get up.

Pinefrost struggled to her paws and she felt the others turn to look at her.

“I’ll go now, something may be out now it’s dark,”

“You need to rest,” Sedgenose protested. She felt a paw cover her tail tip.

“We need to eat,” _I can’t let my Clanmates starve._

They didn’t protest further, and Pinefrost staggered from the den, into the silent grey world beyond.


	21. Chapter 20

Pinefrost scanned the horizon. It was dark, pre-dawn, she guessed. The haze was thick.

She hadn’t slept. She’d been sick again, so had the others, and Campiontail’s twitching had kept her awake all night. The camp was oppressive, the smell unbearable.

She had felt Sedgenose drifting in and out of the den, squeezing water into feverish mouths from her tail-fur before she passed out asleep on the other side of Pinefrost. She had felt Orchidpaw shivering against her in the night, sobbing with hunger and pain. Her wounds had stopped healing, the burns were blackening with dead tissue. The rancid smell of infection made Pinefrost retch. She had felt like it was all over, so she had to get out. In her mind's eye she kept seeing Orchidpaw and Campiontail and Sedgenose; bones poking through skin, fur peeling away, lifeless eyes, cold as snow. How could she sleep while her Clanmates starved?

Pinefrost kept staring at the sky, shivering against the wind. Her own flanks were bare, the black and white fur shedding off her. She had no idea what was wrong with them.

 _It’s like somethings eating us from the inside,_ Pinefrost through. She shivered; the pain was deep within her, dull and aching, as if it had made its home inside her bones. Something was inside her, cozying up against her blood and flesh, and rampaging through her; like the fire in the forest, it was eating her alive.

She could see the faint outline of Twolegplace, like a mountain range, far off in the distance. Her stomach cramped as she remembered the walk there. She was too tired for that; there was no way she could make it to the forest.

_And we didn’t catch anything._

She craned her neck to look over her shoulder.

_Maybe I should try the forest._

A spike of fear made her fur stand straight. WoodClan territory. She didn’t want to get caught by the WoodClan warriors from the sett, or by stray warriors, or anything else in the forest. 

_There’s nothing out there, you’re being paranoid_. She swallowed. _The Clan needs prey._

Cautiously, she began heading upslope. The climb felt tougher than before, the ground was littered with sharp bits of twig and bark, and Pinefrost got dizzy. Every few pawsteps made her slump down, legs trembling, until she reached the tree line. The smell of sap was faint, the overwhelming reek of smoke still coated everything around her, and she rested herself against the base of a black tree. The roots were crumbling against her paws.

She stared across the forest. Grey and black and more grey. She kept walking, a twitching cramp forming in her neck. WoodClan territory seemed as dead as the field, but maybe there was something hiding in the debris, sheltering in the fallen trees and branches.

 _After all, they’ve been eating something as well._ Pinefrost thought of Woolycloud and Houndpelt, she’d seen the WoodClan warriors leave for hunting patrols.

What could be living around here though? There was no grass, no flowers, no seeds or nuts; rabbits and squirrels couldn’t survive, surely. Could birds? She hadn’t heard birdsong in days. Moons.

How long had it been?

Tuffs of white fur drifted across the path ahead of her and snapped her out of her thoughts. Up ahead, a snag of brown fur was caught on a bramble. _Houndpelt_. She felt her fur lift. There was no scent of the WoodClan warrior, and she calmed herself. She was alone. Still, she didn’t want to be caught on their land.

 _They’d probably eat me_. She sniffed to herself, whiskers twitching in dark amusment.

She kept walking. The forest was blurring into one mass of grey. The trail was dotted with spots of dark earth; pawsteps. WoodClan had definitely been through her, even if she couldn’t smell them.

Something lay in the ash ahead of her and she hurried to it. A mouse- half eaten, half-trampled into the ground. Its body

Her stomach growled and she felt sick again, but she pushed the feeling away as she bent her head down to peel the mouse from the ground. She could feel the earth resisting. The mouse came away with a pop, and she held it by its battered tail, gagging at the smell.

Suddenly dizzy, she slumped into a pile on the path. Her forelegs trembled and her vision greyed.

_Just a quick rest._

She closed her eyes, feeling the world spin around her. She had caught _something_ , at least, she could rest once she was back. She ran her tongue over the mouse’s tail- a smooth, rubbery thing clenched between her teeth. She let it drop to her paws, and curled her claws over its body.

It would have to do.

Catching her breath, she stayed still for a few heartbeats; listening to the wind rattle the trees. She pricked an ear- there was no wind, she couldn’t feel her fur being ruffled by a breeze.

She opened one eye, and spotted something flitting down onto a fallen bough.

Pinefrost narrowed her eyes. Something was in the tree. She could see it, a dark brown bird hopping across the branches, twigs rattling as it pecked at the dried bark.

_Fresh_ -kill. Pinefrost’s mouth began to water, but she couldn’t bring herself to move. The bird was twitching, she could see its wing spasming as it jumped along the branch. Its tail feathers were mangled and splayed out.

Closer. Pinefrost slid her claws out. Had it noticed her? She could see the beady, pale eyes. It would feed all her Clanmates. She found the strength to flex her shoulders and wriggle her haunches into a crouch, eyes narrowing in on the bird and its twitching white eyes.

Pinefrost lunged. Her jaws closed around the bird, and bit down. Bone cracked and it went limp. She could taste blood, sweet and fresh in her mouth. Her knees buckled as warm, lively blood coated her tongue like the grease on the river.

She dropped the bird to get a better grip on it, and as she did, she saw its eyes- white, just like she thought she saw. Glazed, cloudy. _Like Orchidpaw’s_.

Pinefrost stared.

Orchidpaw’s eyes are like that because of the fire in the sky.

She rolled the bird onto it’s side to check it’s tail- and her belly twinged with apprehension. Sure enough, there were tiny red pricks of blood where its tail feathers were beginning to fall out; like her own fur.

_Could whatever’s making us sick make the other animals sick?_

Pinefrost’s blood was running cold. It was slowly slipping into place. Sedgenose had wondered what made them unwell. If the prey was ill, then it had to be something they both came into contact with. Pinefrost shivered as she stared at the ash around her. _Did the fire cause this?_ Her head was hurting; thinking would make it worse. The Clan needed prey. Maybe the bird was just blinded by the fire and lost its feathers in a fight. She couldn’t dwell on the thought.

Quickly, spurred by the thought of giving her Clanmates fresh-kill, she found the mouse again and began heading back. She walked as fast as she could, ignoring the dizzy swaying of her body, the way her heart was pounding in her chest, the sharp pains in her legs.

She had to get back, rest, and get out again. If she could keep this up, they’d make it. She broke free of the trees and gazed across the grey field. The wind was blowing ash into swirling dust-devils, sending them high into the air.

Limping now, she grit her teeth against the pain and nausea and tasted the warm blood on her teeth and closed her eyes for strength. She began following the silent river back home. As she approached, the wind changed and began to blow the camp’s scents towards her. The smell of rot made her nose crinkle, and she pushed the thought down. Sedgenose was looking after them, they’d be okay.

In camp, it was still. Pinefrost could hear a low moan from one of the dens; CreekClan or WoodClan, she didn’t want to know.

Woolycloud was sprawled at the rock face, her forelegs splayed in front of her, face pressed into the dirt. She raised her head blearily as Pinefrost slid down the path into camp.

She opened one blood-shot eye, shiny and wet. She opened her mouth, cracked lips parting with a whine, and choked as blood dribbled from between her teeth.

She was trying to speak. Her shoulders spasmed as she coughed, twitching miserably in the dirt.

“Got any prey?” Her voice was dry as sand.

“Why are you asking me?” Pinefrost asked sharply; meaner than she intended, she winced when Woolycloud flinched. One of her ears was bleeding, boils had erupted along the soft flesh and were exploding with pus.

She looked awful.

_Aren’t Gravelpelt and Curledtail looking after her?_

“Because,” she rasped, struggling to breathe, “we are warriors,”

Pinefrost glanced down at the dark molly; the enemy of her Clan, begging her for fresh kill. She stared into her green eyes, the same green as chamomile, or daisies, or lush grass. Forest green. Homely.

_We’re both warriors. We’re both cats._

With great care, Pinefrost unsheathed her claws and divided the blackbird down the centre of its breast. She could feel the bones cracking, the tendons splitting, the silverskin peeling away.

_I can’t let another cat starve. Warrior's honour._

She looked away as Woolycloud began gnawing on a wing, and hurried to the CreekClan den. Guilt was already chewing on her pelt; and the feeling only intensified as she saw Campiontail’s narrowed eyes.

“You gave half to WoodClan,” Campiontail squinted at Pinefrost, her jaw set in a hard line.

Pinefrost ignored her.

“I brought you something to eat,” she nudged Orchidpaw’s flank with a paw and waited for her to move. She barely stirred, flicking one ear.

“We could have ate that,” Campiontail mewed.

 _I did what I thought was right. I’m not going to let another cat starve._ Pinefrost held her tongue.

“What is wrong with you?”

“We don’t need it, Flaxstripe and I can catch more,” Pinefrost forced her voice to be level. She pushed the bird towards Campiontail, the mouse besides it, and hoped Campiontail wouldn’t say anything.

“Can you?” Campiontail’s eyes flashed in the dark and Pinefrost winced.

A shadow flitted over the den and Pinefrost looked up.

“Nice blackbird,” Flaxstripe mewed as he trotted in. He was sopping wet, his fur plastered to his raw skin. He spat out of a mouthful of river water when he dropped his catch- a wet squirrel.

“I fished it out of some branches,” he wiped his muzzle with a paw. She could see his eyes rolling back in his head as he slumped down.

“Pinefrost caught a blackbird,” Orchidpaw rasped.

“We could have had more, if she didn’t give half of it to WoodClan.” Campiontail grumbled.

Pinefrost looked away. She could feel Flaxstripe’s eyes on her. Anger began to build inside her as she suddenly regret what she did. _Are they right? Should I have let Woolycloud go hungry?_ She flexed her claws. Did being loyal to CreekClan mean let the cat who shared her pain starve? _No. They’re wrong._

“This is why we have to leave,” Flaxstripe mewed, “find the rest of our Clan, get away from these WoodClan lot-“ he paused suddenly, the whites of his eyes flashing as his stomach lurched and he doubled over, retching.

He tossed his head back with a gasp as he righted himself. She could see his shoulders trembling with effort.

“Our own medicine cat is too busy with _them_ -“

“And where would you go?” Campiontail’s interest was piqued.

“Back to camp?” He said it like it was obvious. Pinefrost winced at the memory- black, shiny bodies- she had to say something. She turned her head to look at Flaxstripe. She had to stop him going there.

“I went to our camp,” she mewed. The words felt dry in her throat.

“When?” His ears pricked.

“When I found you,”

“With that WoodClan warrior?”

Pinefrost swallowed as she saw Flaxstripe’s eyes flare with rage.

“You took our enemy to camp?” Campiontail started with a snarl,

“I buried Mallowshine and her kits,” Pinefrost rasped, the awful memory coming back to her clearly now, “because the fire had swept our camp and no one stopped to help her escape-“

She turned her head around to glare at Campiontail,

“Our own warriors left a queen and her kits to die in our camp, and now you two keep bickering over whether we should leave this set because there’s WoodClan cats with us. Do you know how to care?”

“You young warriors,” Flaxstripe spat, and prepared himself to say something else before Pinefrost cut in.

“No, _you_ ,” she snarled. She felt all her anger, her guilt, her confusion and pain, forcing its way out of her. “All of you warriors-“ she didn’t know how to word it, how to feel about it; the feeling that everything she knew was wrong. It had been building inside her since birth, and even now she struggled to get the words out.

“All you care about is yourself, your _loyalty_ ,” she rasped, “even now, as we’re starving and dying in a field, without our Clan, you’re obsessed with being loyal to CreekClan, when CreekClan doesn’t care for us.”

Campiontail was staring at her. Flaxstripe too. Pinefrost felt a prick of guilt, but they were words they needed to hear; word's _she_ needed to hear. How had she been so blind, worrying over whether loyalty to CreekClan would save her? _CreekClan might not even exist anymore_. Pinefrost's head was reeling, she felt sick again as she dragged herself to her paws to hiss,

“You think Cranestar and Kiteheart are looking for us? They didn’t even save a molly and her kits. You think Shellspine’s searching the forest? You think that any of them are? If they're even still alive?”

“Sit down,” Campiontail snapped, “you’re just tired-“

“Yeah!” Pinefrost gave a sound that was half-sob, half-snarl, “I am tired, because I’m trying to keep you fed and alive when we’ve lost our home, our territory, our everything-”

Sedgenose suddenly appeared at the front of the den, her eyes stretched in horror as she stared into the den of bristling fur. For a heartbeat Pinefrost thought she would beg them to stop fighting, or take a side, or throw her out, but then she saw the panicked terror in her eyes, the blood on her paws, and her heart dropped,

“What?”

“Curledtail’s dying-“ she gasped, trembling for air, “and I have no idea what to do for her,”


	22. Chapter 21

She was on her paws and racing forward towards the den before anyone could stop her.

“Don’t-!” Sedgenose called, but it was too late, she had reached the stuffy WoodClan den and was staring into the dark.

She smelt blood- and another awfully familiar scent; the kind of scent that neither lavender nor mint could hide. Her eyes struggled to adjust to the darkness, and she could only make out a faint outline of the injured cat before her.

Curledtail was lying down, her head slumped to the side, legs stretched in front of her. There was a thick smell of blood. All her fur had gone. Clumps lay scattered around her, wispy and thin.

Her skin was sloughing off in wet slices. The flesh was red and raw, bubbling with open sores. Dried blood snaked around her skin, winding patterns between the wounds. Black spots gathered around her joints, raised dots on red skin.

Her jaws were parted, loose and open, blood and spit drooling from her exposed teeth; the gum, eerily pale, had rotted away. Her breath was slow, painful, rancid and rasping, her shoulders barely lifting as she struggled for life.

Pinefrost staggered from the den. She slumped into the centre of camp, eyes wide, bile rising in her throat. The fight was behind her. The reality of the sickness was staring her in the face. _How did that happen so quickly?_ She gazed, unfocused, at the blood-speckled ground.

_And here we are, fighting amongst ourselves._

“Is that going to happen to us?” A voice trembled. Pinefrost looked up.

Houndpelt was staring at her. Behind him, a tiny blue tabby, shielded from the wind by her mentor. _Cuckoopaw_.

She was _tiny_. Small as a bird. Her spindly legs seemed to shake with every breath, and her wide owlish eyes were fraught with fright. Pinefrost could barely look at her bony frame, because in her mind she kept seeing it- flames and smoke and a tiny, defenceless kit dangling from a branch.

Her face was burnt away, the ear a ragged stump, the skin marbled with scars. Her bright, golden eyes were staring, terrified, at Pinefrost, who quickly realised she was staring back.

“No, I’ll make sure it won’t,” Houndpelt touched his nose to her ear tip- the one that remained- and wrapped his tail around her frail flanks. Pinefrost could see her bones. Her golden eyes glimmered with pain.

“What now?” Woolycloud rasped as Sedgenose padded out from behind Pinefrost. Pinefrost felt her tremble.

Pinefrost found herself staring at Woolycloud, hoping for her to speak something, find the same words Pinefrost struggled to. She forced the feeling away, hunched her shoulders, and looked towards Flaxstripe. His eyes were narrowed. Pinefrost only felt disgust as she stared at her Clanmate.

“We have to do something!” Woolycloud gasped. No one responded. Pinefrost slumped further into the ground. She was dizzy again, her heart still pounding from her outburst.

“What’s making us sick?” Woolycloud pressed again. The silence was loud.

“I don’t know-“ Sedgenose began with a shake of her head, “everything’s just- going wrong,”

“We have to leave,” Flaxstripe hissed finally. He was still staring at Pinefrost. She held his steady gaze.

_Let him accuse me of whatever he wants. I’m going to do what I think is right_. She felt a familiar stab of grief. _Dandelionfall was right._

“Where too?” Houndpelt paused from where he was smoothing down the fur on Cuckoopaw’s shoulders.

“Mind your business WoodClan,” flax swung his head back around, “Back to our camp,”

Pinefrost suppressed a growl, and to her surprise, Gravelpelt joined the conversation.

“The forest isn’t safe,” he wheezed.

“What do you mean?” Sedgenose turned her terrified gaze on the WoodClan warrior as he hauled himself into the hollow.

“Something in the forest made us sick,” he stared, his yellow eyes watery, “those of us who went into the forest more got sick,”

“Well thanks for telling us,” Flaxstripe snapped, rolling his eyes.

“Like you would have listened if he told you!” Pinefrost snarled. Flaxstripe got to his paws, fur bristling.

“Oh you want to continue our little fight huh? Why don’t you _join_ WoodClan if you’re so against CreekClan,”

Pinefrost only snarled back. Her pelt was hot as she felt eyes on her.

“I’ve been looking after CreekClan since I came here,”

“I’ve been looking after CreekClan since before you were _born_ , kit,” he snaooed back.

“Can we just- stop, please,” Sedgenose sounded exasperated. She held up her tail for silence.

“This thing in the forest-“ she began, cautiously glancing towards Gravelpelt, “do you mean the ash?” She thought of the blackbird she caught and shivered.

He gave a twitch of his shoulders.

_Thanks for the help._

“The light,” Woolycloud mewed, and paused, then continued with some trepidation, “the fire, and the ash, and us getting sick-“

Angry, Pinefrost grit her teeth. The not knowing made her frustration, the frustration made her snappy, the snappiness made her scared; it was like a cycle. Every day was just pushing her to breaking point.

_And now we’re all sick._

She dug her claws into the ground, feeling the ash slid between her toes.

Pinefrost was suddenly struck by it as she smouldered in her anger. The weird cold taste, the _ash_ , the towering fire in the sky. She was suddenly crouched on a clifftop, staring at the sun.

_We were warned, we just didn’t know._

“The Great Light made us sick,” she mewed suddenly. It was like the sun coming between the clouds- literally- _when StarClan showed the vision to Sedgenose…_

Everyone turned to her. Her mouth felt dry.

“The- light,” she echoed. She suddenly felt doubt, “during the battle, when the sky lit up and the forest set on fire,” she turned to Sedgenose, “remember? _A Great Light will destroy you_ , and look-“ she splayed her claws out to gesture around the hollow. She saw Houndpelt’s pale eyes light with understanding.

“Blackwillow was told the same thing-“ his brow furrowed with disbelief and Pinefrost found herself staring at his ragged face. She could see the gears turning in his head.

“How can WoodClan get _our_ omen?” Campiontail sounded incredulous. ”it was vision of Sunstar destroying the forest-“ Campiontail began but then trailed off with a barking cough. When she stopped, she lashed her tail in frustration, glaring at Sedgenose, “right Sedgenose?”

“Well-“

“They caused the light!”

“How could we fox-brain?” Gravelpelt snarled, “we got the same omen as you did,”

“Prove it!” Campiontail hissed, “WoodClan did it!”

“How would they do that?” Pinefrost wheeled on her mentor. She knew, somehow, that it was bigger than all of them. Bigger than the Clans, but how could she explain it to cats who only knew how to fight?

“Stop! Stop!” Sedgenose was begging again, “for StarClan’s sake all of you!”

The hollow went silent. Pinefrost could hear Houndpelt fighting for breath, his eyes dark, his tail wrapped over Cuckoopaw's thin shoulders.

“Okay.” Sedgenose began with a long drawing of breath, “I don’t care what _differences_ you all have, or what theories you have about the omen, but they don’t _help_ ,” she eyed all of them evenly, “but we have to work together-“

“With WoodClan?” Flaxstripe spat

“Do you want to live?” Pinefrost asked.

“I’ve been doing fine, thanks,” he responded with a neat flick of his tail,

“For StarClan’s sake _listen_ ,” 

Flaxstripe wasn’t listening; he was gazing over the lip of the hollow and towards the sky.

“I’ve been doing my best to keep everyone alive, but I’m exhausted,” Sedgenose mewed, “so all I ask, is, for _now_ , we keep hunting, keep ourselves alive, and then, we can worry about who’s leader sent a huge beam of light to destroy the forest, okay?”

There was silence again. Gravelpelt growled a vague agreement. Houndpelt wrapped his tail around Cuckoopaw’s shoulders.

“Have StarClan sent you anything?” Woolycloud asked after a long pause.

“They’ve been silent,” Sedgenose answered. Pinefrost felt her fur lift. Their ancestors were quiet. Had they been destroyed too?

“So what are we doing?” Flaxstripe snarled.

“I just told you-“ Sedgenose began.

“Waiting,” Gravelpelt answered.

“For what? To die?”

“Once we’re better-“

“Well we’re not getting better,” Flaxstripe spat, “she just died, and the way I see it? We’re all going to die if we stay here,”

“Maybe there’s nothing else we can do,” Woolycloud rasped, “wait until we get better, I trust Sedgenose to look after us until then,”

Pinefrost flexed her claws. _Waiting_. She hated that. _Wait until we get better_. She couldn’t fight an illness, not one that crept up on them out of nowhere.

She got to her paws. There was one thing she could do. Hunt, or sleep. Either way, she got to her paws and brushed past her Clanmates. They were silent behind her.

The den was cold. Orchidpaw was still.

“Are they fighting again?” She whispered.

“No,” Pinefrost tucked her head over her shoulder and closed her eyes. The relief at finally lying down was indescribable. Orchidpaw shivered.

“I feel sick,” Pinefrost reached up to touch her nose to Orchidpaw’s ear. The world was spinning away from her. 

“Go to sleep, it’ll be okay in the morning,”

////

It was raining again, a thin, miserable drizzle that clung to Pinefrost’s oily fur. She shivered as she looked at the sky, belly cramping sharply. She’d been out all morning.

She stumbled along. She still hurt. Her mind was spinning from yesterday’s fight. _What are we doing? Waiting? Waiting for what?_ She had to push the thoughts away. _We have to survive._ She stared at the horizon; where a figure cut through the clouds. Houndpelt. He was trudging through the field upriver against the rain, his fur slicked to his skin.

Pinefrost headed in the other direction. She was dizzy, panting for breath.

_Survive_.

She opened her jaws to taste the air. Her throat was dry, and when she tried to swallow, she only tasted blood. Halting, she ran her tongue along her teeth. There was a gap. Shock pierced her, cold as water. She was missing a back tooth. When had that happened?

Pinefrost spat a mouthful of pinkish saliva on the ash as she recoiled at the taste of blood. She wriggled her tongue into her gums; she could feel the hard nub of her jawbone beneath the wet flesh. Nausea made her stop.

She kept walking, legs trembling. First her fur, then her teeth.

_What kind of sickness is this?_

She ran the symptoms through her head. Nausea, headaches, fever. They felt like any other illness- but the tooth loss? Fur falling out? The boils on the skin? The bone-deep ache? She’d never seen anything like it before. It felt _evil_.

Flaxstripe was waiting on the ridge. He was glaring at her as she came trudging through the ash. Frustration pierced through her as she approached. _What was he doing here?_

“Why wait for me if you’re just going to snap at me?” She halted just before him and felt the wind tug at her pelt.

“I’m leaving, I thought you should know,” he mewed. Pinefrost dug her claws into the ground and steadied herself against the wave of dizziness to glare at him.

“Can’t even tell them yourself?” She asked. 

Flaxstripe twitched his shoulders. He was missing a huge patch of fur along his spine, she could see the spikes of his spine pressing through his skin; pale and stretched thin, blue veins glistening underneath.

“I don’t have to explain myself to them,” he mewed eventually, his voice soft but firm. 

“Fair enough,” she suppressed a growl. She knew she couldn’t persuade him to stay. He was leaving.

_Going to find CreekClan_. For a heartbeat, Pinefrost looked up and glanced at the clouds and the sky and the vast expanse around. The same tug of curiosity she felt at the boundaries of Twolegplace now pulled her again, but she flexed her claws to ground herself.

_Sedgenose still needs you. Orchidpaw and Campiontail need you. They can’t hunt for themselves. Don’t be like him and abandon them._

She glanced over at him. He really was leaving. Another flash of frustration; _he can’t be bothered to look after his Clanmates._

“You’ve always been selfish,” Pinefrost spat. _Remember when he took that whole squirrel to himself._

“I’ve always been loyal,” he countered with a whisk of his tail, “I’m going to go find my Clan,”

“And leave behind the ones you have here?” She asked. Again, he only twitched his shoulders. There was a dark glint in his eyes.

“StarClan light your path,” she held his eyes and grit her teeth. 

Flaxstripe said nothing. There was regret in his eyes, but Pinefrost bared her teeth. He got to his paws, gave his pelt a little shake, and began to limp away. He still held his hind paw in the air as he approached the river.

She watched, too numb, too dizzy, to care. He was going. He was sliding into the water, beginning to swim, and reached the other side. He clambered out and gave himself a shake, before glancing back towards the spotted trees and ash of the forest.

_What if he finds them?_

Pinefrost watched as Flaxstripe set off. He wasn’t heading back into the forest, but along it, away from the river. _That’s where he went after the fire_ , she realised. She stayed on the ridge, watching the other shore and waiting until his pale brown pelt matched the pale grey earth and he vanished.

_If he finds Dandelionfall, I hope he tells her I’m alive._ Pinefrost swallowed a sharp pang of emotion as she stared at the ground where he stood. There were still prints in the ground.

_CreekClan doesn’t need warriors like him. I can hunt for us._ She flexed her claws into the ash. _We’ll make it without him._

////

Sedgenose was flitting between the dens, her chest fur soaked with water, when Pinefrost returned from her hunt. She looked as ragged as ever. Her brown fur was going grey. Cuckoopaw and Houndpelt were together by the WoodClan den. He was licking her shoulderblades, carefully cleaning the fur between her burns and welts. He stopped as Pinefrost staggered past, barely long enough for her to notice.

Pinefrost didn’t say anything, she had to break the news to CreekClan.

“Flaxstripe’s gone?” Campiontail’s mew was sharp, and Pinefrost flinched under her glare. Even with one eye, she looked terrifying. Her bones were showing, shoulder blades piercing through her fur. The den reeked of vomit.

“How could you let him leave?” Campiontail hissed weakly.

“We don’t need him,” Pinefrost rolled her catch onto the ground. Her stomach cramped violently and she had to steady herself against the den wall, eyes closed.

“So you didn’t even stop him,” she spat.

“He wanted to go, he was going to go anyway,” _at least he told us_. She took a deep breath, trying to ignore the damp smell of infection and the guilt and grief that tore at her.

Campiontail shuffled on her paws and raised her head to bare her teeth at Pinefrost, but she was quick, anger flaring up to spit back at her mentor,

“I can hunt with the WoodClan cats when they’re better if your so _worried_ that I can’t catch anything,”

Campiontail gave a _mmwwrow_ of amusement and then started to cough.

“We’re going to starve here,” she spluttered, “you’re all we have to go hunting,”

Pinefrost ignored her. She was exhausted. Flaxstripe had gone. She had to feed CreekClan herself- she _would_ feed CreekClan herself.

She needed to lie down.

Sleep, then hunt.

Orchidpaw was cold against her, shivering in the throes of a fever dream. All her fur was nearly gone. Her flanks had shrunken, her stomach was a hollow dip, and her shoulders stood out like wings.

_Sleep, then hunt._

Pinefrost grit her teeth against the nausea as she got to her paws in the morning. Sedgenose was flitting over Campiontail, laid on her side with her legs twitching, and Pinefrost slipped out without a word. Camp was empty. The air was still. She licked her lips; thirsty.

The wind was strong, threatening to blow Pinefrost over as she headed for the river. The black water was shining in the pale light. She dabbed at the surface, watching tufts of fur slip from her paw as the water sucked at her pads, and took a sip. The acid tang of bile didn’t leave her mouth, and she felt sick again.

As she gazed across the river she wondered if Flaxstripe had found his Clanmates. _Probably not. No use in dwelling anyway._ When Pinefrost got up, the world fell away. She had to hunt. And she did. She got back when it was dark; slept, briefly. She went to the river to drink, went to the field to hunt, the den to sleep; the river, the field, the den. Sedgenose was flitting between the dens, her eyes glazed, her bones showing. Pinefrost woke up and-

It really felt like a bad dream; like she was sleepwalking. The days were beginning to blur into one.

She’d slept badly- barely slept at all. When she wasn’t trudging through the poison ash, desperately searching for prey, she was feverish against the ground as the sickness returned.

One moment she was hot, burning up under her charred pelt, and the next she was gripped by shivers so intense, so painful, so _cold._ There was a deep ache inside her, burrowing into her bones. 

Nausea. Stabbing pain in her head. Her throat was a raw scratch, thirst so intense it made her swallow painful mouthfuls of spit and retch achingly against the hollow cold feeling of hunger. All her catches went to Orchidpaw, Campiontail and Sedgenose. They were dividing mice between the four of them.

Her legs trembled as she got up at dawn, and her vision greyed, leaving her unmoored as she stumbled towards the hollow’s slope. There was mud underpaw, squelching and thick. The air was fresh with the cold tang of rain. She was dizzy when she climbed out onto the field, unsure of everything as she scanned the horizon. She could hear someone whimpering in the camp.

It was grey outside, that much she knew; an unreal colour. Grey. Purely grey. Every other shade was absent, and the sky, clouds, and what could have been the land all blurred together in the same colourless tone. She set off through the heaps of ash and earth. Dry. Scorched land. Her head hurt. She was going downslope, downriver, that was where she and Flaxstripe caught the voles, surely something else lived there? Surely the prey had returned?

She could feel her ribs as she walked; poking sharply through her skin. She’d never known hunger like this since leafbare. Since she was a kit, tiny and defenceless and starving in the nursery, the whole world buried under snow. The ash was blowing around her as the wind kicked up.

She kept walking forward, staggering, her jaws parted to taste the air. All she could taste was ash, and the faint tang of blood as she coughed. She panted for air as the fever gripped her again- head reeling, stomach lurching. Her bones felt like they wanted to come outside her body. She could see them, flashing under a bright, white sunlight-

Her knees buckled. She staggered to stop herself collapsing. Her muzzle brushed the ground, her legs threatened to give. The world vanished. Pinefrost gasped in a mouthful of cold air and flakes of dry ash, coughing and rolling onto her side.

Someone spoke behind her. Something gripped her bones and forced them to move- life clawed from inside her ribs and pushed her head up so she could see two shapes staggering towards her. One solid, one a blur. One short and fuzzy, one a tall wisp that seemed to move above it all, above everything.

She couldn’t tell who they were. She thought she heard a voice. The world greyed out.

The cat sank down into the ash and the sky sank down into the ground and the river-


	23. Chapter 22

The den was cold. Frighteningly so. There was snow, she could taste it; cold and sharp. The world was white, gleaming. A haze of mist blanketed the rocks, and it was silent.

A pair of grey eyes shon through the fog. A black pelt was pale grey in the mist. Bones stuck through fur.

Pinefrost couldn’t tell where she was. She felt like she was standing on the edge of a rock somewhere, but not _there_ , watching the scene in front of her from the air.

Out of body- she guessed- watching from somewhere in space.

Her ears felt stuffed with cotton; she couldn’t hear, but she could tell there was supposed to be noise- a buzzing sound in her ears, low, muffled.

The cat in front of her was mouthing something- words, sounds. She stared at the pale mouth moving, trying to make sense of the words from the sharp, jerking motion. She was gripped with panic as she stared at the black cat, desperately shouting something.

Where was this? The rock face was vaguely familiar, glittering with moisture and ice. The cold was familiar. The tang of leafbare, crisp and sharp. Pinefrost could feel the heavy weight of ice in her fur.

\- then a voice, cutting through the heavy silence suddenly.

“He won’t wake up!” The cat was crying. “Sedgenose- please!”

She could recognise that voice. From when she was younger. A tom’s voice. It sent a jolt of horror through her.

“He won’t wake up! Sedgenose!”

Pinefrost stared through the haze. The black tom was calling frantically, and slowly, the picture began to emerge as Pinefrost blinked and saw something in the fog; three tiny shapes tucked in a nest of moss and feathers, pelts slick with ice and snow.

She found herself moving forward, but with no body, she was just ghosting towards the crack in the rock; up, over the rocks, towards the dark slate with the frozen yew tree bending over, heavy with snow.

The nursery. CreekClan’s nursery.

Wasn’t she supposed to be dying in the badger sett? Pinefrost shivered.

The black tom was shouting again.

“He’s cold- he’s so cold, I tried warming him, but oh- he won’t wake up! He won’t wake up!” Then-

“She won’t wake up!” Sedgenose’s screech cut through Pinefrost like a set of claws. She forgot all pain, all hunger, and awoke with a gasp of pain.

“She won’t wake up!”

////

Two grey bodies lay in the ash laden hollow, and all Pinefrost could do was stare.

Orchidpaw and Gravelpelt were laid side by side, grotesque red corpses against the grey ash, and Pinefrost felt nothing.

She was shattered. Her heart ached with fresh grief. Orchidpaw was gone. Gone forever. What had killed her?

Pinefrost stared at the bubbling sores along her flank, where the fur had fallen out and the skin had just opened up. She closed her eyes against a swaying nausea. The sickness had just come back and taken her. Beneath it all, the horrible thought; _why didn’t it just take me?_ She had passed out, and ended up back in camp, with another dead Clanmate. It felt cruel.

Sedgenose was staring at her as she shivered with sadness.

“You should have woken me,” she rasped, opening her eyes again. Orchidpaw was still in the exact same position, paws outstretched like she was asleep in a patch of sunlight.

“You passed out, you were sick as well don’t forget,” her mew was soft and it made her skin prickle. She felt a tail tip against the fuzz on her shoulder, “You shouldn’t push yourself,”

Pinefrost glanced at her, eyes shining. Sedgenose's ragged face was drawn into a frown.

“Neither should you.”

Sedgenose’s whiskers twitched- she noticed several missing, red spots in their place. Her eyes were rheumy and tired.

“Have you even slept?” Pinefrost asked. Had she been looking after her, Campiontail, Houndpelt, Cuckoopaw, and Woolycloud alone?

“StarClan grants me the strength to keep going,” she rasped back. 

“Sedgenose, please. For all of us.” Pinefrost was suddenly overwhelmed with a tenderness towards the medicine cat, a gratefulness.

Sedgenose regarded her with a steady, soft gaze.

“I’ll get some sleep, if you get some sleep,” 

“I have to hunt-“ Pinefrost began, 

“Pinefrost,”

She swallowed, looked away, and she felt her tail touch her ears. 

“Don’t blame yourself,”

Pinefrost sighed. Her heart was aching against her ribs.

“I should have been awake.” She flexed her claws again.

“Sometimes, there’s nothing we can do,” Sedgenose got to her paws and moved away, mewing for the WoodClan cats. She watched her vanish into the darkness of the den.

_What now?_ Pinefrost dug her claws into the ground with frustration. She was _better_ ; so would they leave? Would they find their Clanmates?

_I have to see Dandelionfall again. I have to let her know I’m sorry._

Pinefrost kept staring at Orchidpaw’s tail, flat on the ground. If she hadn’t made it, even with a medicine cat and a warrior trying her best to keep her fed, what said Dandelionfall had survived? What said _CreekClan_ had made it?

_Even if there’s no CreekClan to go back to, even if she never wants to see me again, she’s still my sister._ A stab of grief pierced her heart as her mind replayed the battle; she was stood silhouetted by the white sky, her eyes wide with terror.

Pinefrost shook her head to clear her thoughts. She looked over her shoulder, feeling eyes on her pelt.

Campiontail. The dark molly was staring at her. She looked thinner, more ragged. The skin on her burnt face was peeling.

“I’m glad you pulled through,” she muttered. She was sat upright, leaning heavily on the den wall. Pinefrost blinked.

“What happened while I was out?”

“It rained a lot,” Campiontail sniffed. Pinefrost nodded. She could smell the rain.

“And?” She asked. Campiontail flicked an ear. She could see the tension in the way her mentor sat, shoulders tight, eye pointed away. 

“And we talked, a lot,”

“What did you say?”

“Just,” a twitch of boney shoulders, “we need to stop fighting,”

_I could have told you that._

“Woolycloud’s been hunting for us,” Campiontail mewed instead. Her pale green eye wouldn’t meet Pinefrost’s steely glare.

“She’s better?”

“She’s the one who dragged you back here,”

Pinefrost squinted. The memory was hazy, grey on grey on grey, but hadn’t there been two cats? _Houndpelt? Or double vision?_ She shrugged.

A soft crunch snapped her out of her thoughts, and Pinefrost craned her head to see Woolycloud standing behind her. She looked somewhat better, her open sores were healing over with a yellow crust. Her gaze was downcast, her tail dragging on the ground, but she gave a twitch of her whiskers when Pinefrost looked over at her. 

“We should sit vigil,” she mewed quietly, approaching Pinefrost with a cautious glint in her eyes and then nodding at her Clanmate, laid still on the ground.

“What?” Pinefrost rasped. _Vigil?_

“Vigil, for your friend, Orchidpaw.” She glanced at Houndpelt, who returned her gaze evenly. His blue eyes were unreadable, dull. He looked gaunt, still, and there was a kind of grief in his face that Pinefrost couldn’t name.

“StarClan will understand if we don’t,” he began after a long pause. Woolycloud gave a long, slow, flick of her tail, held his gaze.

“She’s an apprentice, Houndpelt. She must be guided to StarClan.”

Houndpelt dipped his head and slowly trudged towards Orchidpaw, not towards his own Clanmate, Pinefrost noted.

“What’s a vigil?” Pinefrost asked as the brown and white tom gently set himself down besides Orchidpaw’s shoulder.

“You- you don’t sit vigil for dead cats?”Woolycloud tipped her head, incredulous.

 _What?_ Pinefrost stared. They didn't even talk about dead cats in CreekClan.

“No,” Campiontail rasped as she dragged herself into the centre of the camp. Pinefrost winced at the sound of her voice.

“Well- how do you really explain it?” She gave a tip of her head and looked over at her Clanmate. Houndpelt twitched his shoulders,

“It’s a ceremony,” he explained, “we all sit in the clearing and honour a cat’s life, their sacrifice in battle-“

“Exactly,” Woolycloud nodded.

Campiontail’s dull eyes barely focused as she gazed at Pinefrost. Sedgenose had joined them, a blue slip of shadow trailing behind her.

“Okay,” Pinefrost mewed numbly. They all seemed to be in silent agreement. Even if the thought of sitting with the WoodClan cats around her dead friend made her fur prickle, she agreed. _We have to start getting on, and maybe it will help_. She felt her grief inside, raw, her thoughts spinning. Tense, Pinefrost watched as Woolycloud and Houndpelt sat around the bodies and tucked their tails around themselves. She noticed Sedgenose watching too, trying to imitate their positions.

She stared at the ground and felt awkward. Was this supposed to honour Orchidpaw’s life? She closed her eyes and tried to push away the feeling that others were watching her.

 _How do you honour a life?_ She had no idea.

 _Do you list what you liked about a cat?_ She felt her grief rise in a tide as she thought of Orchidpaw; kind and sweet and getting roped into cleaning out the nursery, or struggling during training, or-

Pinefrost fought back a sob as a wave of emotion hit her. She missed the apprentices den. She missed waking up in early morning sunlight, the mist coming through the yew tree, running through the forest, not a care in the world. Everything was easier when she was an apprentice, when all she had to worry about was appearing like a loyal warrior and passing assessments.

 _You know that’s not true. You’ve been thinking like this since you opened your eyes_. She pushed it away. She was supposed to honour Orchidpaw’s life, not worry about her own struggles. She shuffled her paws awkwardly and righted herself. Blinking open one eye, she could see Sedgenose staring at her, her head tipped curiously.

“I wonder if Orchidpaw’s made it to StarClan yet,” Sedgenose mewed tersely, breaking the silence. The WoodClan cats reacted with stares, and Pinefrost winced. I guess you don't talk during a vigil. Still, Woolycloud replied with a worried note to her mew,

“They haven’t spoken to you yet?”

Sedgenose only shook her head. Houndpelt looked up from his position,

“Do you still need an omen?” His tone was somewhat scathing, but Pinefrost ignored it.

“I would feel better about it,” Sedgenose answered.

“What omen?” she asked, glancing between Sedgenose and Houndpelt.

“We were talking about leaving to find the Clans,”

“But she needs an omen to know where to go,” Houndpelt finished. His tail thunked against the ash.

“I just, _feel_ , that our ancestors would tell us where to go,”

“And if they don’t?” Houndpelt asked.

“Where do you suggest we go?” Sedgenose asked.

“The mountains,” he shrugged. 

_Or we can wait_. Pinefrost felt her whiskers twitch but then crushed the feeling. It wasn’t funny. She glanced over her shoulder, back towards the forest. Had the Clans really gone towards the mountains? She thought of the pines and larches, the clear mountain streams, valleys and rocks in the distance, and shivered. _Maybe_.

“First, we need to bury these two,” Sedgenose got up, breaking the vigil. Woolycloud and Houndpelt glanced at each other again, but Houndpelt only twitched his shoulders in a shrug and began to pad away to the den.

“I can do that,” Campiontail muttered. Sedgenose nodded and fixed Pinefrost with a stare,

“You, I want you in that den,” she gestured to the WoodClan den and Pinefrost felt her fur lift, “and I want you asleep before the dark,” Pinefrost only nodded in agreement. She was too tired to argue, she needed sleep. She needed to curl up for a hundred moons.

She scanned the camp, watching the cats drift away. Woolycloud was still crouched besides Gravelpelt, hunched, tail flat. Then she leaned forward to press her muzzle into his mottled, tattered pelt.

She looked up, and Pinefrost looked away. She heard pawsteps as Woolycloud approached her.

“In WoodClan, vigils help us know that they’re in StarClan now,” she mewed, her eyes searching Pinefrost’s worn face. She could only nod back.

“Perhaps we should sit vigil for the other cats, those we lost in the battle and the fire,” she suggested gently, glancing back up and across the camp.

_Other cats. Tallsun._

Pinefrost’s heart twinged like it had been pierced with a thorn. She nodded weakly.

“You can’t blame yourself,”

“Huh?” _Sedgenose said that to me as well. Have they been talking about me?_ Her fur prickled suspiciously.

“For Orchidpaw,” Woolycloud’s eyes were soft, caring, “and for anyone else either,”

Pinefrost only blinked

“C’mere kit, you look like you’ve been dragged through a bramble backwards,” Pinefrost stumbled forward and found herself with her forehead pressed into Woolycloud’s shoulder.

When she pulled away, Woolycloud twitched her whiskers.

“Hunting patrol tomorrow,”

“Okay,” Pinefrost mewed. She closed her eyes again, and let the warmth of the WoodClan cat’s fur soothe her soul.


	24. Chapter 23

She was beginning to wonder if she would ever see the sky again.

Woolycloud had offered to come with her, but Pinefrost had declined. She wanted to be alone. Her heart ached. Her body was still sore, struggling to fight off the sickness.

There was movement on the other side of the field as she stood on a ridge, scanning the horizon. A brown and white pelt was sneaking between the ash.

Houndpelt. The tom had left just before her. He was staggering as he walked. Pinefrost glanced around the field; apart from her and Houndpelt, it truly looked empty.

The sky was the same pale grey it always was. The ground matched it.

Pinefrost’s skin was beginning to crawl with an itch. The emptiness of the field- the stillness- was making her heart race. There had to be something living here. She began walking, following the river downstream. She knew this track well, she realised, and had soon reached the riverbend. A huge tangle of twigs had been ensnared on the bough of a trapped elm. _Would make a good place for prey…_

Pinefrost raised her head. She could hear scuffling, shifting. Her ears swivelled around. Where was it?

She crouched, holding her breath, and scanned the field.

There.

A tiny wisp of ash rose above the still mounds- as thin as a whisker. There was something there. She opened her jaws to taste the air; nothing. She crept forward. The ash rose again, swirling upwards, tiny specks shivering through the air. It was a bird, seizing and rolling on the ground. She could see its frail body through the bundle of twigs in front of her.

_Get it!_ Her mind was racing faster than she could keep up. She had to catch it- _so why aren’t you moving?_ She felt as if she was fixed to the ground, watching it spasm weakly and try to fly.

She held her breath again. Her heart was in her throat. She trembled, raised one paw to creep forward.

_You won’t catch it now._

She lunged forward before she could think. She saw Orchidpaw's thin limbs and just _moved_. The bird heard. It took off clumsily, and Pinefrost swiped it with a mis-timed blow. She landed behind it, sliding away on the slippery earth with a snarl.

“Get back here!” She scrambled to chase it. The blackbird was awkwardly flapping away, barely able to get any height, struggling with strangled squawks. Ash billowed around her as she chased after it.

Something hit her.

Pinefrost slammed against the ground and dug her claws into the pelt with a snarl.

Fur. Brown and white.

“Houndpelt!” She batted him off with a solid kick to his haunches and snarled.

“That was my catch!”

“You were chasing it?” He scrambled backwards, muffled by the bird in his jaws.

“Yeah,” she got to her paws with a grunt.

“Huh,” he placed it down and poked one claw at its chest. The blackbird deflated. It was tiny.

“It’ll feed them for tonight,” he said eventually.

Pinefrost shook out her pelt as she rolled to stand. She was still dizzy. She eyed him warily as he studied her through narrowed eyes. His eyes were dark, cautious; ears flat.

Then he spoke,

“Woolycloud wanted me to thank you for the chamomile,” he gave a small twitch of his tail.

Pinefrost gave a sniff of slight amusement. _She probably had to beat that out of him._

“It was the least I could do,” she murmured. Cuckoopaw’s terrified form still hung in her mind. Houndpelt was scowling at her.

_I still havent forgotten he called me a coward._ Then she swallowed, _he was right._

“It was stupid of me not to try save her, I’m sorry, I’m glad she’s okay,”

Houndpelt’s eyes flashed in surprise.

“Tell her yourself,” he mewed, then he paused, his fur flattened, and he twitched his shoulders, “Back then, a CreekClan cat would have never saved a WoodClan apprentice,” he gave a sigh, but the suspicion didn’t fade from his eyes, “it’s in the past,” He paused and gave a nod in the direction of the sett. “We should take this back to camp then,”

Pinefrost frowned. She had wanted to spend some time alone, hunt by herself, but she found herself nodding. The empty field made her fur creep. They walked in silence, Houndpelt leading the way. Halfway along the ash trail, he stopped, gave a look over his shoulder,

“I’m sorry about Orchidpaw,” he mewed. It was Pinefrost’s turn to feel surprised. She nodded back, heart aching.

“Sorry about Gravelpelt,” she mewed back, putting on speed to catch up with him. She was taller than her, but he had bulk, even while he was skinny and starved. There was a huge scar behind one of his ears, splitting the short brown fur behind.

“He was my father,” Houndpelt mewed simply.

“Oh,” She dug a claw into the ground as she walked. What was she supposed to say to that? He was a WoodClan warrior as well. _Is this ‘getting along to survive’ supposed to involve us telling each other about our dead families? Is that what WoodClan do?_ She gave him a look, aware of how long the silence had stretched, “I’m sorry.”

“I lost my mother- well, both my parents,” she mewed. “I know how you feel.”

“I don’t really,” he gave another shrug of his shoulders.

_He doesn’t feel sad he’s dead? WoodClan cats are weird._ Pinefrost held the thought.

“My mother’s the deputy, Henfeather, so, she’s probably still alive somewhere, organising dawn patrols,” Houndpelt continued.

“You guys have dawn patrols?” Pinefrost cut in with a jolt of surprise.

“Yes,”

“You _call_ them dawn patrols as well?”

"Yes, what else would we call them?"

“Huh,” _maybe not so weird then_. She trudged besides him in silence again. She could see the badger sett.

And something else. Something red.

“Is that Campiontail?” Pinefrost mewed. She could see a red pelt behind a cloud of ash. She heard Houndpelt hiss. Her heart stopped dead in her chest.

“Get back to camp!” Pinefrost screeched.

Fox! That was it! That was the scent that had haunted her for so long. The reason for the discarded prey in the field. The eyes on the back of her pelt.

Without pausing to reply, Houndpelt was tearing past her, and she followed, hot on his heels. She was dizzy with fear as she raced towards the camp, blazing through the ash like she was carried by wings.

She spotted it; a fire-red shape lunging over the rock. She screeched in terror, and wails answered her.

Sprinting as fast as she could, Pinefrost hared towards the den, and sprang down into the hollow, ready to attack.

Houndpelt threw himself at the beast, jaws closing around the back of its neck. Blood sprayed the air as he was thrown off. Pinefrost barelt had time to react; she saw a blue pelt, crouched in fear

“Cuckoopaw!” She sprang forward, and her claws dug into the fox’s shoulders and she gripped, tight as she could. It reared up, shrieking and barking.

“Get her!” She yowled. The fox was staggering backwards. Any second now, she would fall off. Pinefrost closed her eyes and braced for impact just as she saw Campiontail hobble forward to grab the apprentice.

Pinefrost yelped as she hit the ground. She flailed to stand upright, wheezing and gasping for breath. The fox wheeled around on her. Pinefrost froze. She was staring up into its eyes. It’s jaws foamed with blood and spit, it’s eyes were hungry black-holes. She lunged forward and to its side, claws scoring across its pelt. She could feel its ribs under her claws. Skidding to a halt, she whirled back around to face it, wrenching her shoulder as she turned.

She saw Campiontail dive for its neck, Houndpelt dash back to grab a fore leg. The beast shrieked and bucked in the air. Pinefrost instinctively dove for one of its thrashing hind legs. She sunk her teeth into the tendons, pain flaring across her shoulder, before a foot slammed into her chest and she was sent flying.

She scrambled, desperately gasping for breath as she tried to stand. She could see Houndpelt, a blur of brown and white, slashing at the beast’s muzzle as he backed it into a corner, snarling and spitting. He brought his paw straight across its eyes and sent an arc of blood through the air. The fox yelped, ducked, and with a howl that made her ears ring, fled over the side of the den. Houndpelt gave chase, leaping over the wall in a single bound.

Pinefrost staggered to her paws.

“Everyone alright?” She was breathless, staggering forward. Where had Houndpelt gone? She couldn’t see.

She glanced around the camp. Woolycloud was crouched over Cuckoopaw, licking away blood from a scratch on her eye. There were blood splatters on the dirt, and a dark red shape outside the warriors den.

Pinefrost’s heart dropped to the floor. Campiontail was on her side, still.

“Campiontail!” Pinefrost rushed to her mentor’s side, ignoring the blood pouring down her own shoulder.

“Sedgenose, she’s hurt!” She yowled as she crouched next to her. There was a huge gash across the back of her neck. Blood ran down her heaving sides, flowing freely through her fur.

Campiontail’s eye stretched wide and she gasped for breath. Her paws scrabbled madly as she backed away, clutched by terror, from the medicine cat. Her bloodied claws tore at the earth.

“Stay away from it,” she barked, spittle flying from her teeth.

“Campiontail!” Sedgenose dove towards her but she shrunk back.

“Stay away-“ Campiontail spasmed, back arching and legs thrashing, and she fell to the ground. Her claws scraped through the earth in ragged lines. The blood from her neck would not stop.

Her breath came in agonising, hacking coughs. Blood bubbled between the gash in her neck, and she flailed her legs.

“The light-“ she gasped again, body arching in pain, “stay-“ her back legs spasmed, shaking uncontrollably as she struggled against the blackness that seeped through her vision. Pinefrost could see her eye glazing over, and her heart began to splinter.

“Campiontail-“ she began, choking as her throat closed. Her mentor rolled over, blood foaming on her lips.

Her single, bright green eye was stretched wide with horror. Pure, primal fear. Campiontail’s claws scratched against the ground as pain wracked her body, once, twice, shaking like a tree battered by a storm, and then fell down.

Pinefrost felt nothing as Campiontail went still. The blood was still oozing from her wounds.

She heard a thunk behind her. Houndpelt. His breathing was rapid.

“It was hungry,” Houndpelt rasped, “it smelt blood,” his breathing grew angry, “did she not bury them?” He wheeled around and Pinefrost felt a flare of anger, wheeling around to bare her teeth.

“Don’t blame her!”

His eyes stretched wide as he saw Campiontail, then he looked away, and hobbled over to Cuckoopaw. Pinefrost stifled a sob and twisted around back to Campiontail.

“It smelt sickness,” Woolycloud murmured, “it thought we were weak.” She felt her warm pelt brush against her flank. 

Pinefrost slumped down and pressed her muzzle into Campiontail’s fur.

She was gone. Her mentor was gone.

_Even if we never saw eye to eye, I don’t want it to be true._ She pressed her nose against her skin, trying to feel for a pulse. But nothing. Another member of CreekClan, ripped away from her.

It was unfair.

_Flaxstripe, Orchidpaw, Campiontail. All I have left of CreekClan is Sedgenose._

She glanced over towards the medicine cat, now fussing over the WoodClan warriors. Houndpelt had his tail wrapped around his paws, Cuckoopaw tucked safely between his legs. Her eyes were wide with terror, her face splattered with blood.

“Three warriors in two days,” Woolycloud rasped from besides Pinefrost, “StarClan, save us.”

Pinefrost got to her paws, shaking with sudden anger. _StarClan!_ She spat on the ground and flexed her claws. She had to take a deep breath, feeling Woolycloud’s shocked eyes on her suddenly.

_Why are we still here?_ She thought, gazing at the dirt walls. _We were supposed to be gone once we where better._

“Pinefrost, let me see your shoulder,” Sedgenose mewed. Pinefrost didn’t react.

_Waiting for an omen._ Fury burnt through her and her grief raised its head again, snarling and spitting. Pinefrost flexed her claws, feeling her shoulders sting with pain. Where her warrior ancestors even watching over her anymore? How could they be? How could they be allowing this cruelty?

She looked over her shoulder and met Sedgenose’s yellow-green eyes evenly.

“I hope your omen’s worth it,” and stalked off into the fog.


	25. Chapter 24

The river was sliding past, carrying ash and debris downstream.

Pinefrost was sat on its bank, her paws touching the water. She could feel it’s cooling laps against her paws. A thunderhead was forming in the distance, dark storm clouds against the usual pale sky. It was quiet out here. Only the soft murmur of the river disturbed the silence. She could see CreekClan’s forest, crouched behind the marshes, rattling in the breeze. She could see the outlines of the cypresses, the elms, the birches- all the same spindly black remains, but she _knew_ , deep down, what they were.

She sighed. If she left, she’d never see the forest again.

 _And where would we even go?_ Was the whole world like this? _We don’t even know what happened still._

She flexed her claws in frustration. Maybe she should have left when Flaxstripe went. He did tell her he was going; _maybe he wanted me to come with him, he knew we would survive._ She shook the thought away, her Clanmates still needed her. _Sedgenose_ needed her. No matter where they were going, she had to stick with Sedgenose.

_I have to find Dandelionfall again. Omen or no omen, we can’t stay here._

As Pinefrost stared into her reflection- her eyes hungry and sharp, her ears tattered- she gave another sigh. She watched herself watch herself, her slitted pupils darting across the waters surface to study each angle of her face. She looked a hundred moons older, with fresh scars and nicks. _Like a warrior_ , she guessed. She saw the water darken as another reflection flickered briefly on the rippling surface. Black and white, glowing yellow eyes. She jumped back in shock.

She stared at the water. But there was nothing. She dabbed a paw against the waves. Nothing still.

Yellow eyes. She swallowed.

_Tallsun?_

A clink made her shoot to attention and she turned around; Sedgenose was padding towards her.

Pinefrost stifled a yawn as the medicine cat approached. _I must be seeing things._

“Your shoulder,” Sedgenose mewed. Pinefrost looked away and gazed back into the river.

“It’s fine,”

Pinefrost shuffled away as Sedgenose sat down. She hadn’t meant to shout at the medicine cat earlier. She tried to find the words to apologise, but Sedgenose spoke first,

“I’m sorry,” Sedgenose rasped.

“What for?” She mewed back. _She’s got nothing to be sorry for. We couldn’t have known…_

“I don’t know,” Pinefrost could only twitch her whiskers in reply. They lapsed into silence, and listened to the river. Pinefrost smouldered in silence. Sadness and grief mingled inside her. _It's unfair_ , she thought, as she reached out a paw and rolled it into the water. How could it happen to me? She watched the ripples and shook her head. It was happening to all of them; every single Clan cat, even the loners and rogues. 

Pinefrost sighed, feeling her breath ruffle her whiskers, and gazed upstream. Fog was rolling over the stream, hiding the marshes. She could see the water shining through where the stream joined the river, the current swirling beneath the surface. Her old home vanished behind the fog, and she looked away, heart tugging, back to Sedgenose. She was sat silently, whiskers still. Her face was thinner.

“Do you think they’re out there?” She asked finally, glancing at Sedgenose. Her voice felt sore. She watched as Sedgenose slowly opened her eyes, ears flicking to attention, paws shuffling over the stones, and sighed.

“Do you?” She asked back.

“I guess,” Pinefrost gave a twitch of her tail. “I have to,”

Sedgenose blinked. Her voice was soft.

“If I know anything, I know that Dandelionfall’s out there somewhere, we just have to find them,”

“And where do we go?” Pinefrost whispered, “do we just pick a direction and hope?”

Sedgenose shook her head, but she had nothing to say. 

Above them, it began to rain. Pinefrost didn’t say anything. The fog was thinning out as rain sliced from the sky and splashed against the cold ground.

“We should get back,” Sedgenose replied eventually.

“In a minute,” Pinefrost shook her tail off her shoulders. She wanted to watch the rain against the flat surface of the river. The ripples reminded her of camp, the sounds were soothing to her aching heart. 

She heard Sedgenose get up and begin to trudge away. A long moment passed. Pinefrost grew cold. Her fur was soaked. The rain had gotten heavier, then lighter. The river’s surface was white with ripples, waves and wind sloshing across the top. The water was impossible to see through.

 _Did I really see you?_ Pinefrost's stomach clenched with doubt as she stared back into the water. She waited for Tallsun's face to appear, but nothing. She gave a sigh.

She got up. _Back to camp._ Woolycloud would be burying Campiontail now, Houndpelt would have gone hunting, they needed to discuss what they would do. Pinefrost’s heart clenched as she began climbing the trail back to the sett. _Over the mountains_ , she thought. That was the best guess any of them had. 

She hunched her shoulders against the cold. Rain drizzled miserably from above, cold drops sliding down the remains of her tattered pelt. As she stared across the horizon, she felt a tug. Her heart ached with something fierce and sad. She felt a tremble course through her body as she crested a ridge, and sank down suddenly, numb to the core.

The ash rose around her as she sat, and then was carried by the breeze that buffeted her face with cold rain. She closed her eyes, letting the freezing drops run down her face. She could hear Sedgenose calling for her. Pawsteps, splashing in the mud.

Then the wind shifted. Pinefrost felt it blow from the mountains, cold and stinging, full of the deadly scents of leafbare. The cold was coming, the snow and ice would kill them- but she didn’t feel fear, as the wind blew again, and the clouds parted, a single ray of light began to spill onto the valley.

Golden, warm light, poured from the clouds and illuminated the rain-speckled ash. Something stirred. The wind blew softly, a gentle caress over the valley. She got up, lifted by the breeze. She couldn’t believe it. Pinefrost took a step into the field. Her pawsteps sent up puffs of ash as she walked, as if the ground was taking short, shallow breaths in the cold, as if it was alive again, slowly awakening under the golden sunlight.

She felt herself awaken, her cold body unfurling under the sudden warmth. Her anxiety melted, her sadness faded like dew, and the crisp, clean taste of the breeze swept through her.

The breeze stilled, and through the glittering rain, the light continued to shine.

She purred, faltering and short, her heart racing in her throat, dizzyingly fast. How sad, that a simple ray of light would overwhelm her with emotion.

She raised her face to the sky. The blank, dark clouds answered back, and behind them, the brilliant blue sky shone through. When she looked down, she felt like she had been struck by lightning. A long black shadow crossed the field, pointing off to the foggy horizon, where jutting, ragged ruins broke the flat fields. A flat swath of darkness cutting through the ash into the distance.

Behind her, Sedgenose gasped.

“You wanted an omen,” Pinefrost mewed. She could feel the wind in her fur now, tugging her forward. She had felt it before, at the boundary with Flaxstripe- no, she had _seen_ it before; the dark shadow in her dream.

She was trembling with hope. StarClan had been with them.

Woolycloud peered over the ridge, her paws filthy and splattered with mud. Her eyes were shining.

“That’s were we go,” she mewed shakily.

Pinefrost nodded, her heart swelling with hope- and fear. She turned her face to see Sedgenose gazing at the sky, and Houndpelt and Cuckoopaw besides her. The blue molly shivered as the breeze blew again, but her eyes were wide and hopeful and waiting, staring at Pinefrost to speak.

Then she looked back to the horizon, where the light was leading to a ragged row of rocks and stone,

“To find our Clanmates,” Sedgenose rasped, her voice lighter, calmer. 

Pinefrost’s heart hardened with resolve.

“Through Twolegplace,”


	26. Epilogue

It could have been dawn, for all she knew, but it was pitch black outside. No sunlight reached through the ruins, and a storm was raging overhead.

Rain lashed the roof noisily, water thwacking against the strange shiny covering; plinking down across metal and brick. Shadows criss-crossed the floor, and eyes gleamed in the dark.

In the back of the den, where a pool of grimy water soaked the earth, young tortoiseshell was crouched, fur miserably slicked to her thin body. She was deep in her grief. She rocked back and forth as the wind screeched above the dens. The storm raged above, drowning the pitiful mews from the ragged circle of cats that sheltered in the darkness.

No moonlight shone, no light at all. The darkness was impossible to see through. Fear and anxiety choked the air. The tortoiseshell shivered as a kit mewed weakly near the back of the den.

"If this rain keeps up-" a red tom mumbled to himself, his face tipped towards the sky, ears pinned to his head. A thick scar crossed across his broad face, gnarled and knotted. She pressed her forehead into his thick neck fur and took a steadying breath. She felt the air change, the pressure dropping suddenly and the sky outside getting darker, thunder.

Then she shivered, but not from the sudden trickle of water running down her fur, but from the sound hidden just behind the thunder. Her Clanmate sensed it to; she could feel his shoulders tighten and his breath hitch, pupils narrowing as he swung his head down to face the den's narrow entrance. A shadow ghosted across the wall; arched backs and wet, spiked fur.

Outside, footsteps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> /////
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading! Hope you all enjoyed the story, all comments/crits are massively appreciated. Feel free to follow my tumblr (trinitywc) for updates to when the sequel will be dropping (hopefully soon!) Thank you all again!


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